Violent Avenger
by Saber Wing
Summary: When Trunks and Vegeta set out for some casual training on planet Kanassa, they find far more than they bargained for. A sinister evil has risen from among the ashes of a fallen race, and he wants revenge on those who destroyed his people. The Saiyans.
1. Chapter 1

_**Authors Note: **_Hey, everyone! I'm back with another full length story. Yay! I am honestly so excited to write this, I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I have enjoyed developing and writing this story. This follows the same timeline as another of my stories that you may have read, _Shattered Soul_, and I will make references to things that happened in that story from time to time, but this can be read as a stand alone story, for those of you who have not read _Shattered Soul_.

Here is a bit of history you will need to know to fully understand some things. The kanassans, who are part of the main focus in this story, are the people that were supposedly fully wiped out by Bardock and his crew, and they have special psychic abilities, if you remember. That's all I will say for now, because I don't want to reveal too much about the story, but if there is any confusion about anything in the future, don't hesitate to say so, and I will clear it up for you.

I do not own Dragonball Z, or any of the characters. That belongs to Akira Toriyama, the luckiest bastard in the world XD. Only the characters I create are mine, as is this story. Anyway, on with the story!

**Violent Avenger**

**By: Angel Wings-008**

Space really was a beautiful place, even if it was a little unsettling. Trunks gazed out the viewport at the blackness surrounding them, marveling at the luminescence of the stars from up close. Never again would he feel the same looking at them from the ground on Earth, not after seeing them like this. How ancient they were was astounding to him. They had been here since the beginning of time, outlasting everything and missing nothing. Eons more would pass with the stars still watching, long after he was gone, without a doubt.

Honestly, Trunks was still amazed he was even here. His dad _had_ promised to take him training again after he'd gotten sick a little over a year ago, but he hadn't expected…well…_this._

"What exactly are you looking at? There's nothing to see but darkness," said Vegeta, startling Trunks out of his reverie. Trunks smiled softly, and chuckled to himself. Of course his father wouldn't be able to see the beauty in it. He'd always been such a pessimist. Besides, Vegeta had been to space countless times before.

"Nothing really. It's just that I've never been to space before…it's pretty fascinating," Trunks replied, trying not to seem overly excited. After all, this was supposed to be a training expedition, not astronomy for dummies.

Vegeta snorted, and sat down on the couch across from the viewport. "That feeling wears off fast, trust me. Especially after it's all you see for months on end. With that freak Frieza breathing down my neck every second it was made even worse!" he finished, with a sneer of disgust.

_Oh, right… another reason to hate space, _thought Trunks. How could he have forgotten that one? After all, that terrible time with Frieza was what had helped make his father who he was today. Trunks wasn't entirely sure where his own brain went sometimes, which was fine because he wasn't sure he wanted to know. Though he had to admit, he found it quite amusing to joke around about his own misfortune. He'd contracted scarlet fever around a year and a half ago, and there had been a possibility of brain damage, so Trunks always liked to joke that he actually had been. Always finished with a bout of laughter on his part of course, nevertheless Vegeta never found it all that funny. Despite Trunks' constant reassurances, the Saiyan prince still felt guilty about that little incident. He didn't say so of course, but he could tell.

"So what planet are we going to anyway?" asked Trunks. Vegeta still hadn't enlightened him with that important information. Why, he didn't know, but whatever. His dad was kind of weird and secretive sometimes. The Saiyan prince hesitated for a moment, as if trying to decide how much he should tell him, but after a few seconds, he spoke.

"Back when the saiyan race had not yet been exterminated, there was an order from Frieza to go to the small planet of Kanassa. The mission was to eradicate the people living there, so he could do whatever the hell he had planned with the planet. So, a team of low class Saiyan warriors was dispatched to do it. From what I heard, it didn't take long to defeat the Kanassans, but the planet is barren now. After Frieza destroyed Planet Vegeta, he never did anything with Kanassa. I suppose he forgot all about it in the uproar," Vegeta seethed, fists clenched tightly, his body rigid.

Trunks scowled and felt his own muscles tense up. He may not have witnessed the destruction of the Saiyans, or Frieza's brutality, but that certainly wasn't enough to stop him from being furious about it.

Just then, Vegeta's head snapped to the right to look out the view port, and he sprang to his feet instantly. At first, Trunks didn't understand why, but when he reached out with his senses, he felt it too. While they had been talking they'd come up on planet Kanassa, and it most certainly wasn't barren. There were enormous power levels coming from this planet, and lots of them.

Trunks quickly shot up from the couch he'd been sitting on, adrenaline pumping through him. "This is Kanassa? I thought you said it was barren!"

Vegeta dashed toward the controls of the spaceship, taking a second to toss a hasty glance at his son. "This has to be Kanassa; I couldn't have plotted our course wrong. There aren't any planets within a close enough area of Kanassa to mistake it for something else!" he replied, in a voice filled with confusion and uncertainty.

Well, that certainly couldn't be good. "Maybe some other people came along and took the planet over," Trunks suggested, though he wasn't putting much hope into that.

"I doubt it. Their power signatures are very distinct; those power levels are definitely Kanassan." Vegeta stopped speaking and banged his fists on the control board, seemingly frustrated. "Damn it all! The communications system isn't working, so I can't call your mother to see what she says, but our own navigation system says that this is Kanassa."

_Hmm..._this was going to be even more interesting than Trunks had thought. Kami, he hoped that was a good thing…. "Only one way to find out, right?" he questioned, but he really didn't need to. He already knew what his father's answer would be.

The prince of all Saiyans clenched his fist, mouth twisting up into his trademark smirk. Looking his son straight in the eye, he spoke in a voice filled with intensity and strength. "That's right! They may not be too happy to see us, but we're getting to the bottom of this." Vegeta chuckled and went back to the controls, flipping it off of auto pilot and readying it to land. "Those idiots won't know what hit them!"

Trunks gazed thoughtfully out the viewport at the planet they approached. For some reason, he had a bad feeling about this. He just hoped his instincts were wrong.

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The young demi- Saiyan stood frozen in place, horror and disbelief rolling off of him in waves. Scarcely believing his eyes, he scrutinized the landscape in shock, not wanting to believe that such destruction could exist on one tiny planet. The shattered remains of a once great civilization lay scattered and ruined upon the dusty ground, chunks of stone from toppled skyscrapers littered all around him. Not a single building still stood fully erect, some half toppled, still others having nothing left of them except for splintered wood and demolished possessions.

The smell of death in the air was a thick miasma, and Trunks had to force himself not to gag or turn away. Tucked away on his safe little planet Earth, he had never seen destruction as horrible as this. Even during the fight with Majin Buu, he hadn't witnessed such complete death before. Dead cities, dead planets, dead, dead, dead. Everything dead….Suddenly, something caught his attention, and his eyes widened in sorrow when he saw what it was. With trembling hands, he picked up a child's teddy bear from the ground, half burned and broken beyond repair. This had been held by a child once, comforted and hugged. Did that child miss this little thing? Were they even around to miss it?

Chills ran up and down his spine as he held the simple little toy in his hand, a cold sweat breaking out upon his brow. He hardly even felt the gentle hand on his shoulder, hardly even notice when Vegeta knelt down beside him and gripped his chin in his hand. His mind was far away, focused on the people who had once lived and the child who would never come.

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Turning his son's head to face him, he looked into Trunks' eyes, blackest onyx meeting the brightest blue. The boy was in shock, and with good reason. The wreckage around them had been no surprise to him, unfortunately, but it had to be a huge blow for someone like Trunks. Vegeta had been trained to fight and see things such as this from the day he was born; his first conscious memory was of ruin and death. It had to be far different for his son, who had never seen such a thing in his short life. He should have known this would happen from the start, but it had slipped his mind. _Careless idiot, _he chastised himself. As unfortunate as it was, Trunks simply had to learn to handle these things, whether the boy liked it or not. The sooner he did, the better it would be for him.

"Trunks," murmured Vegeta, giving his son a little shake. Oh Kami, now the boy was trembling. Damn it all, he should have prepared him for this!

"Trunks!" he shouted, finally succeeding in getting his attention. The young prince jumped and turned bewildered eyes to his father. They were wide with uncertainty, and something far too close to panic for Vegeta's liking.

The prince of all Saiyans heaved a heavy sigh. He was going to have to try to be gentle…unfortunately, he was terrible at it. Where the hell was that woman when he needed her? She was better with this mushy shit. Vegeta straightened his spine and steeled himself, new determination rising within him. He had vowed to himself and to Trunks that he was going to be a better father and damn it, he was going to do it if it killed him.

"Listen to me son. Look at me, really look! Focus!" he shouted, not quite succeeding at calm. Vegeta saw the struggle on his son's face, but the boy at least made an effort to look interested. That was something, and as much as he could hope for at this point.

"What did you expect, son? Tell me that. I told you this planet had been as good as demolished. What did you expect to see but this?" he uttered, in a firm but soft voice.

"I....I don't know. I just, I-I guess I didn't expect it to be so… heartbreaking. As soon as we walked in here, it really hit me. Everything is so barren, so dead… " Trunks choked, sounding as if he were fighting back tears.

Vegeta sighed, placing his hand on Trunks' shoulder. "It is simply the way of things. We may not always like it, but it is inevitable. I won't sugar coat it for you Trunks. This may be your first time seeing ruin and death this complete, but it is far from the last. As harsh as this may sound, you have to learn to handle such things. I know you aren't use to this, of course I know that! But you are a Saiyan prince, and as such you have no choice but to be prepared for destruction, even when it is caused by your own hand," replied Vegeta, dragging his other hand through his hair.

He took a breath and scowled inwardly. Damn, he hated doing this. "But, I should have better prepared you for it," he forced himself to say, feeling his muscles tense up. Vegeta knew he'd never get use to admitting when he was wrong.

Trunks gave a shaky smile, probably knowing that himself, and recognized the statement for what it was. "No, don't worry about it. I should have better prepared myself," he uttered. His face was still too pale for Vegeta's taste, but his voice wasn't quite as shaky. Good. This boy was a fighter, no doubt about it. He felt his mouth curve up into a smirk. Of course he was! He was a Saiyan elite!

Trunks gently, almost tenderly, set the stuffed bear down onto the rock strewn ground, pushing off with his hands to get to his feet. "Something's bothering me though…maybe it's just my imagination, it's not like I have experience in this, but doesn't all of this seem a bit too… fresh to you? I guess it could be my brain interpreting things wrong. It's still mush right now," he finished with a slight smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

So he'd noticed too….Vegeta supposed he shouldn't be surprised by that. With parents who possessed superior intellect, what could you expect? "You noticed right. I can smell the death in the air as thickly as if it only happened yesterday. Who knows? Maybe it was yesterday….How these people survived that massacre all those years ago is beyond me, but obviously they did," he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"If their race survived and has been here all this time, chances are they rebuilt at least some of the planet's cities. So, what happened to destroy them like this again?" asked Trunks, setting his chin in his hand and rubbing it thoughtfully.

"I don't know, but we'd better find out. I have a bad feeling about this," Vegeta grudgingly admitted, feeling uneasy. This planet was said to possess odd properties to it, but Vegeta had never realized how true that was until he had come here. It oozed psychic energy, or at least he assumed that was what it was. Whether that was good or bad news for them, he couldn't say. So much for training…._And this was suppose to be a peaceful little outing_, he thought to himself, snorting in disgust. Vegeta should have known that nothing involving him was ever peaceful. He just hoped they'd get out of there in one piece, or at least somewhat intact.

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The Kanassan second in command approached his leader, bringing the news he had been waiting for. Slowly, he approached the elder Kanassan, reverence evident in even the slightest features of his face. Bowing from the waist to the elder man, he spoke, voice a soft cadence of respect. "They have come, my Lord."

"Excellent. Just as I have foreseen," replied the leader, setting a tentative smile on his fishlike lips. "Everything is going according to planned. Our last hope has arrived."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Oh, I did so miss doing cliff hangers like this XD. My favorite :D. Thanks so much for reading, and I hope you'll continue to do so. Reviews are much appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

_**Authors Note: **_Hey everyone! Just wanted to let you know that there is quite a bit of background information in this chapter, which is probably why it's outrageously long. It is all important so just bear with me. Make sure you take it in, please =). Also, I would like to emphasize that any other copyrighted characters that may be mentioned offhand in this chapter, I do not own. Anyway, on with the story!

**Chapter 2**

Trunks flew silently beside his father, headed toward what they assumed was the capital city. They had consulted a map to try and figure out exactly where the power levels they felt were coming from, just to get an idea of what the terrain was like. After that they had taken flight immediately, neither wanting to prolong whatever was ahead for them. Trunks struggled to rid himself of the tense energy that was making his body rigid, clenching his fists in order to stop himself from blasting something. Everything was so quiet! Neither the chirp of a bird, nor the mindless chatter of people could be heard anywhere, and it was putting him on edge. Not to mention, his mind was still recovering from that shock back at the ruined city, which didn't help. Reaching up to rub his temples, he tried to block out the images that raced through his brain, but it was no use. He suspected that it would be a long time before he could even think about forgetting the horror he'd seen there. Hell, he'd be lucky if he could even sleep at night. Sighing to himself, he gave up. Too bad he didn't have his dad's skill for blocking out unpleasant events.

"Down there," shouted Vegeta, trying to be heard above the roaring wind. He pointed to the distant ground, signaling that they should land. Trunks nodded, sensing the Kanassans near there, and began his descent, Vegeta in front of him.

Landing on the ground without mishap, they stood in silence for a moment, each Saiyan scanning his surroundings. Most of the Kanassan power signatures were concentrated not here on the surface, but underground. Trunks was puzzling out why that would be when he registered five people coming at them from all sides, Kanassan, from what he could tell. They were a fish-like race of people, with scales that covered their entire bodies, and muscular builds. Around the same height as a human or Saiyan, they possessed more power then the average human being, but they weren't a match for Trunks. He was deeply saddened over what had happened to their planet, but these guys obviously weren't going to listen to reason, so he had no choice but to defend himself. He smiled, feeling confident for the first time since he'd gotten there. However, just as he started forward to meet the challenge, Vegeta grabbed his arm and held him in place. The prince of all Saiyans leaned toward Trunks, hissing a warning through clenched teeth.

"Don't get too cocky, boy. They may be pathetic physically, but they have special psychic abilities. They can read your mind, so don't think, just act. Let your instincts guide you or they'll just anticipate everything you do. Understand?"

"Yeah, got it," Trunks replied, too surprised to say anything else. Before exiting the spaceship he had briefly scanned through the information about Kanassa in the ship's directory and it had said something about psychic ability, but he'd thought that was just a myth. Shaking his head to clear it, he let go of any remaining thoughts he might have, giving himself fully over to the natural instincts of his Saiyan blood. Trunks transformed into his super Saiyan form effortlessly, Vegeta following suit almost as fast. He had one more level to ascend than Trunks did, so naturally it took him at least a few seconds longer.

There they remained among the city wreckage, side by side and standing tall. Twin golden auras surrounded their powered up forms as they awaited the approaching enemy, blue green eyes fixed straight ahead and gleaming with intensity. At last the Kanassans closed in around them, blocking all avenues of escape except for the vast sky. They halted just a few feet in front of the Saiyans, looking enraged and eager to kill.

"Disgusting Saiyans! Your final hour begins now! How lucky we are to be graced by your presence, _prince_!" spat one of them, shaking with rage.

Another of them, wearing an expression of anger identical to his kinsmen, spoke. "And you brought your little whelp, how nice. So the rumors are true! Your bastard, half-blood son truly does exist!" Trunks flinched, forgetting himself for a moment, but he quickly slipped a serene mask on his face, banishing all thought. This wasn't the first time he'd been called a bastard; it was of no consequence now. He forced himself to believe that were true.

Vegeta growled like a feral animal, anger getting the best of him. "All right you sniveling pile of filth! I'll have you know, my son could wipe the floor with all of you effortlessly! He has more power in his little finger than you possess in your entire body, as do I, so I would think twice about insulting him like that again! Got it?!"

The Kanassans made a low growling noise deep in their throats, almost as if they were wild animals about to charge. "Why should we listen to you!?" screamed the one who had first spoken. To Trunks, he appeared to be the leader of this ragtag group of people. He seemed a bit bolder, and the others looked to him in uncertainty. All but the lead Kanassan stayed well back, looking apprehensive.

"Daren…," murmured one of the Kanassans, to the bold one.

"What?! Don't tell me you're chickening out on me!" he shrieked incredulously, blue scaled face turning a deep shade of red.

"But he's right…."

Another Kanassan cuffed the man on the back of the head, sending him sprawling forward and ruining any chance they had at maintaining their dignity. Vegeta laughed and laughed, the thundering sound almost akin to that of a mad man. Obviously, he found all of this hilarious. Trunks couldn't help but chuckle himself. It _was_ pretty funny. Idiots….How the hell were they suppose to take these guys seriously, even if they were psychic?

After he had calmed down enough to speak, Vegeta turned back to the Kanassans, who stood and stared with mixed expressions of anger and bafflement. "Who do you losers think you are anyway, huh? Did the little weaklings want to play warrior, is that it? So much for your people. As far as I'm concerned, if you guys are all that's left, the Kanassan race is as good as dead!"

"As far as I'm concerned, we are the only ones! Our so called commander is a weakling! He thinks you'll save us all from terrible peril! Ha! You're the ones who destroyed us in the first place, and that's why we're going to destroy you!" seethed Daren, clenching his fists.

Trunks exchanged a glance with his father, whose face was as perfectly smooth as his own probably looked, but he could see the shock in his eyes. Save them? Why? From what? Not to mention, who was this commander?

Daren smirked and answered their unspoken thoughts, obviously taking advantage of them as soon as they'd forgotten to guard their minds. "Why should you care? You won't live long enough to need the knowledge!"

The group of Kanassans sprang forward as a unit, combining their efforts and coming at the Saiyans. Trunks and Vegeta spun around at the same second, each facing a different direction, silently vowing to guard each other's backs. Two Kanassans, one of them Daren, barreled toward Trunks with a roar, who dodged their punches without thinking. He supposed that was what happened when he let his Saiyan instincts rule him.

The duo stopped and readied blasts, collecting golden energy in their hands to form twin beams. Trunks held out his hands and deflected the blasts, causing them to go off over his shoulders in different directions. Before he knew it, the Kanassans were speeding toward him, using the blasts as a distraction in order to get close. Without warning, one of them connected with his head and sent him flying into the remains of a nearby building but he quickly rose and rushed back toward them again, undeterred. Extending his arms, he performed the hand motions of an attack, stretching both palms in front of him to form a diamond at the center.

"Burning attack!" he shouted, golden blast of energy shooting out toward them. With a scream, they were both engulfed in the glowing mass, only to collapse when it left them, bloodied and broken. Trunks landed on the ground and assumed a defensive stance, skeptical. Was that really all it would take? Somewhere behind him, he heard Vegeta shout the words to his Galick Gun attack, then the screams of the Kanassans as they were charred by the beam of light.

Trunks, fairly certain that they wouldn't be getting back up, powered down and stepped cautiously forward, peering at the two still forms on the dusty terrain. Had he killed them? The battle had been unavoidable, but still, it was a little sad. They were only trying to do what they thought was best for their home. Was that so wrong? It was no less than what he would do if he thought the Earth was in danger.

Daren stirred on the ground in front of Trunks, struggling to lift himself with weakened arms. Lifting his head, he stared at the young Saiyan in disgust. "You dare to pity us now, to pity me? I don't need it, nor do I want it, you filthy little maggot!" he croaked, somehow managing to invoke wrath into his voice, even in this state.

"Take me to your leader immediately," ordered Vegeta, causing Trunks to jump about a foot into the air. He hadn't even realized he'd been there…that wasn't good. He needed to keep his guard up at all times in this place.

"That bastard is no leader of mine! He's a fool, believing such a vision could be true! How could you save us when you have destroyed us not once, but twice?! It's all you're fault! We had just started to rebuild…we thought maybe, just maybe, we could have a new beginning after all, but then we found out that some Saiyans had survived the destruction of their cursed planet. We wanted to destroy you! Lord Braeden saw the truth, but then that fool Crion didn't think it was right, his followers along with him…"

Trunks shot his father a puzzled look, and was slightly relieved to see that Vegeta looked just as lost as he was, and agitated; his dad was quickly losing what little patience he had. No surprises there. At least Trunks wasn't the only one who had no idea what this nutcase was talking about. They had to find these leaders he spoke of so they could clear things up. More and more questions were piling up, with no answers to any of them. It was frustrating beyond belief.

"Ugh, shut up already! This babbling is not doing us any good at all! Now where the hell is your leader?!" screamed Vegeta, red in the face. Trunks raised an eyebrow and hid a smile. _At least some things never change._

Daren, who was getting weaker by the second, scowled and struggled to push himself up even farther. The man was practically shriveling with fatigue; Trunks could see the obvious signs. The man could hardly even control his own limbs anymore, but he refused to back down. As much as Trunks disliked him, he had to admit, his resolve was admirable. His voice now sounded feeble, as he spoke. "Now listen, you…"

"Enough!" bellowed a thundering voice, stopping the two Saiyans and Daren in their tracks. All three men turned their heads in the direction of the speaker, coming to rest on a lone figure who stood between two crumbling stone pillars, the remains of a once majestic building. He was a tall man for a Kanassan, with scales of brilliant turquoise and keen violet eyes. His intelligent gaze slid over them all, resting on Trunks for longer than the others, or so it seemed to him. You could get lost in those eyes, and he didn't mean that in the trashy romance novel way, not in the least. Those eerie violet eyes held his gaze, and try as he might, he could not pull away. It was as if his mind was locked within the powerful psychic's grasp.

"Hey, what the hell are you doing?!" shouted Vegeta from beside him. Before he knew it, his dad had grabbed him by both shoulders and shoved him behind him, breaking whatever connection he'd had with the man.

"What's the big idea? You merely looked at him, and all of a sudden he couldn't even move. Why is that?!" Vegeta seethed, going into protective psycho mode, though Trunks had to admit, he kind of liked it when he did that.

"I beg your pardon?" questioned the Kanassan, who had stepped closer and stopped a few feet away from them. All of a sudden, comprehension dawned in his eyes. "Oh, I see. I apologize for that. Because I have such powerful psychic talent, sometimes I capture people with my gaze by accident," said the man, looking sheepish and apologetic.

"W-What the hell are you doing here?" asked Daren vehemently.

"You know well why I am here, Daren," replied the mysterious man, glaring down at the Kanassan who had now collapsed fully on the ground. "Don't even bother to speak any longer; you're only wasting what little strength is left in you. Now just settle there quietly. I have summoned the medics to come for you shortly. I hear them now, walking this way. If you will follow me please, we have much to discuss," finished the man, beckoning to Vegeta and Trunks with a finger.

"Wait a second. Who are you? You cannot expect me to simply go with you without even knowing who the hell you are!" shouted Vegeta.

The man shot him a slightly miffed look, and Trunks suspected that he would have raised an eyebrow, if he'd had any. "I thought you realized. I am Crion, leader of the Kanassan people, and the one who will show you the path to your destiny."

Trunks spun Vegeta around to face him before he could launch into a rant about how overrated destiny was, which he no doubt would have. With the amount of power Crion possessed, he probably already knew everything he was going to say, even though Trunks was trying to block him out, so he spoke to his dad in a normal volume, knowing that whispering was futile.

"Come on dad, we have to figure out what's going on. He seems to be telling the truth. If he wanted to harm us, chances are, he would have tried already, right? He did have me pinned back there, after all."

"Damn it, I know that! His psychic powers probably could have held you and I in place at the same time if he'd wanted to. Fine…let's go, but keep your guard up. I don't like the look of this," he said, shooting a suspicious glance at Crion, who only smiled faintly.

"Follow me," said Crion, turning to walk back through the pillars he'd passed earlier, Vegeta and Trunks following him at a comfortable distance. Soon after, they came to what was once a street, though now it was littered with wreckage like the rest of the landscape. They had been walking along for a few minutes when Crion halted next to a half demolished wall, lifting what looked like a crushed TV screen. It turned out that there was a hidden keypad underneath, and the Kanassan leader tapped a code into it.

A hidden metal hatch located under a pile of debris creaked and sprung open, revealing a hole about five feet wide which led to a passageway. Crion walked over to it and stepped down onto what appeared to be metal ladder rungs attached to the wall, and started into the tunnel. Vegeta signaled Trunks to stay put while he went in first, placing himself between Crion and his son. Silently appreciating his kindness, Trunks stepped down onto the first rung and went after them, working his way through the dimly lit tunnel.

After about an hour of twists and turns through tunnels, and several complaints from Vegeta, they finally arrived at a more open, lit area, and the path they had been following forked two different ways. One had a sign inscribed with the words "Salvation" with an arrow pointing down the path, while the other, which they turned down, took a sharper turn and ended about a dozen feet in. Crion came to yet another keypad and placed his palm on the scanner, next lowering his eye down to it to be identified. At last, the sturdy steel door came open, and Crion led the way inside.

The chamber was very large, and well protected, the walls somehow coated with a layer of metallic substance, giving the room a shiny, chrome-like appearance. There were crates staked up here and there along the walls, and pieces of technology, including computers, radar scanners, communications devices, and even a few Frieza era scouters.

"All right, I want answers. Why did you lead us all the way here, and what exactly is here? Is this place the reason you were able to avoid extinction?" asked Vegeta, launching right into it as soon as Crion had stopped and turned toward them.

"Yes," replied Crion, in a somber voice. "This is indeed out safe haven, our salvation, as we have named it. You saw the path which leads to where the civilians live as we passed to this one." Trunks recalled the sign he had seen by the path. The name did make sense; after all, it was exactly what they called it, their sanctuary.

"This is merely where we store our supplies, for I figured it would be wiser if the people did not see you. Not all of them know of my vision, you see. There's no need to frighten them any more than they already are," continued Crion.

"What vision are you talking about? What did you see?" asked Trunks, beating Vegeta to the punch. He loved his dad, but let's face it; the man was about as diplomatic as Han Solo with his faithful blaster rifle.

Crion gazed earnestly at Trunks and answered, though he noticed that the Kanassan tried not to look too directly at his eyes, attempting to avoid another mishap. "In order to understand that, you must first hear the whole story of our survival and the events afterward. It started when our previous leader had a vision of the downfall of our race. We are always taught to except our fates as they come, but this we could not ignore. And so, we set out to reshape our destinies. It was decided that much of our population would be concealed beneath the ground, with safeguards in place which would hide their power levels. The warriors of the planet and a portion of civilians would be above ground, to attempt to defeat the Saiyans who were sent, yes, but largely, they knew they were doomed to die. They knew it was so, yet they were happy to make that sacrifice. It was necessary that there be enough people on the surface to fool the Saiyans who came, and fool them it did. However, one thing did go awry…"

Trunks waited for the rest of the tale, enthralled. Lately he had noticed himself absorbing any kind of knowledge like a sponge, especially things this interesting. All of a sudden, Trunks noticed that his father's face had lit up with comprehension, and then Vegeta began to speak.

"Bardock," he uttered, but that one word was enough even for Trunks to understand somewhat with his limited knowledge. Now there was a name he knew; Goku's father, if he remembered right. He'd been part of the band of Saiyans who had gone to eradicate planet Kanassa, but Trunks didn't know much more than that.

"You are correct," murmured Crion, who then fell silent and waited for Vegeta to explain. He seemed to understand that the Saiyan prince needed to take charge every once in a while.

"There were reports that ever since Bardock had returned from Kanassa, he'd been acting strange," began Vegeta, in a matter of fact voice. "On top of that, in the report he and his comrades handed in to Frieza, there was a single Kanassan survivor left on the surface, who struck Bardock and claimed he had given him the power to see into the future. Of course everyone dismissed it as nothing more than a hokey myth, but some believed there could be truth to it. There was even talk that the only reason Frieza had the Kanassans destroyed was because he feared their power. Certainly makes sense. I suppose that's why he never came back for this planet. He never wanted it; he just wanted all of you gone. Just like us," Vegeta seethed. That similarity must have hit a little too close to home.

"Yes. Our fates are similar, the Saiyans and Kanassans. The only difference is, we foresaw our end and were able to change it. It is one of the reasons why I do not loath you as some believe I should. You were all pawns just as much as everyone else was. Who are we to blame the Saiyans for that? You and your race did not do this to us, Frieza did. Unfortunately, there are others who do not believe as I do, those who want revenge above all else on what little remains of your race. Which brings me to this recent tragedy," Crion concluded, bowing his head as if in sorrow.

_Two divided groups of the same race on one planet, each led by a supreme leader. That could only mean one thing,_ Trunks thought grimly. "Civil war," he murmured. "Some of you are for revenge on us, others for peace with us. Am I right?"

"That is correct. What is left of our race has been divided and split yet again, all thanks to a single man who holds them together. His name is Braeden, and the ones you fought earlier were followers of his. He is a ruthless, merciless man, different from most of us. His physical prowess far exceeds any other of our race. However, the gift is not with him. Psychic powers were denied him, yet he received raw power instead. We are holding our own against his forces, but only because his focus has been on all of you. This war is nothing to him, merely a means to an end. He despises the Saiyans more than anything, yet he is doing the very same thing that he hates you for. What hypocrisy!" He spat the last word, angered. Normally the man seemed to be a calm soul, but this upset him. How could it not? Trunks would be concerned if it didn't.

"Let me guess. You want us to get rid of him for you," Vegeta drawled, in a cynical tone.

"It is imperative that he be destroyed, if I am to preserve what is left of my people. I have foreseen this, as you know. If something does not change, if I had not approached you both with this, you would have almost surely fallen, and we along with you. You Saiyan warriors are our last hope, and I do not say that lightly. I have reviewed every option, made every move possible, and this is the only way left to us. I cannot guarantee that this will change anything, but we must try. I must remain here, all of my Kanassan force must, but wherever Braeden may go, you have to follow. If you were to have someone who could read the future there, who could be in close proximity with the rest of the Saiyan race and Braeden, the tides may be turned. We must all put hope into a single source. Perhaps even a single young man," he finished in a softer tone, and Trunks was startled to see that, during that last statement, he'd been looking at him. Crion gazed at him even now, those piercing violet eyes meeting his own cerulean ones.

What did this mean? What could he possibly do that would change the lives, the very destinies, of so many people? He was reminded of Bardock, who had been forced to foresee his own end and that of the Saiyans. No matter how hard he'd tried, he hadn't been able stop the inevitable from coming. Was Trunks destined to have the same thing happen to him? Would he try to change what could not be changed? Wield a power that should not be his? Trunks blinked rapidly, feeling a cold sweat break out upon his body. He didn't know where all of this was coming from, but somehow those piercing eyes caused him to think unsettling thoughts, and he couldn't help but believe he was headed in a direction he could not hope to turn from.

"Do you understand what I am saying to you, young one? Do you want the chance to change your destiny?" Crion murmured, staring intently at the young demi-Saiyan. Trunks was vaguely aware of Vegeta shaking his shoulder, and the young prince even thought he heard him ask if he was alright, which normally would have surprised him a bit, but it didn't matter anymore. Nothing really did, except for this. He knew what Crion offered, and he had no choice but to take it. Slowly, he nodded, pushing the fear to the back of his mind and trying to swallow over the lump in his throat.

"I'm ready. Let's do this."

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How will Vegeta react to this, I wonder? Guess you'll just have to wait and see.

Yeah, another cliffhanger. I like those (evil smile).Makes things more interesting and keeps you guys wanting more. Don't worry, you'll get much more!

Yes, I borrowed one of Future Trunks' techniques for this Trunks. Why? Because I can. End of story xD. But seriously, who's to say he couldn't learn them?

Anyway, thanks for reading the latest installment, reviews are much appreciated =).


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Braeden gazed out the viewport with intense revulsion, taking in the sight of the peaceful, blue and green planet that floated before him. Its peaceful oceans teamed with animal life. Its people lived without a true care in the world, inhabiting the rolling green lands of the Earth. It would have been beautiful to any other eyes, but it disgusted him. It was alive and thriving well, as were the Saiyans, the wretched swine, while his planet rotted away and faded to nothing. But not to worry, he'd have the revenge that was due to him. All he had to do was bide his time, killing them one by one and forcing them to live in fear. _So much for that sniveling fool Crion and his pathetic forces._ He deserved whatever he got, as did the people who followed him. He didn't know what the man wanted with the prince and his whelp, but he really didn't care; it mattered little. He hadn't cared enough to stay and welcome _his highness. _If anything, it only increased Braeden's odds for success. They would be much easier to pick off if two of their best fighters weren't here to help them scramble for a desperate victory. His second in command could handle that dead-end war on Kanassa.

He scanned the planet's power levels, searching for the distinctly Saiyan signatures, and was suspicious to find only one powerful Saiyan in the area. Eyes narrowing, he scanned again, still finding only one such signature. Braeden's lips curved up into an evil little smile, and he looked upon his quest with renewed delight. It would appear that, for whatever reason, only one Saiyan stood on this planet at present.

Braeden laughed to himself and headed back to the controls, wicked anticipation quickening his step. Oh, he would have a lot of fun with this one…the massacre of his wildest expectations was finally within reach, and he knew just how he would start.

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Vegeta turned to Trunks with an incredulous expression, mouth hanging open, then spun around to face Crion. "Not a chance, do you hear me?! I don't care what you say about fate and destiny, I'll not have any son of mine going insane like that poor fool Bardock!"

Trunks sighed and walked forward to face his father, forcing himself to stand tall instead of trudging wearily, as he felt like doing. "Dad, it's okay. If I can make a difference this way, how could I refuse? Maybe this is exactly what we need to set things right again."

Vegeta growled under his breath in what appeared to be deep frustration. "Who says it will make a difference? What happens if it doesn't matter either way, what then?! I'll not have you suffer needlessly Trunks! From what I've heard, having that so called gift is less blessing than it is curse."

"But what if it does make a difference? We have to try. How will we know if we don't even try? Would you have your daughter dead before she has even had the chance to really live?! What about mom, and the rest of the Saiyans, your_ subjects_? I will do whatever I have to do to protect you and everyone else! I can not, will not just sit idly by and watch while I could be doing something useful!" shouted Trunks. He knew his dad meant well, but he wished he would just stop arguing and let it go for once. This was hard enough without having to start a full scale debate. Trunks was trying so hard to be strong, to stiffen his spine and take it all in stride, just like his father had always done. Now, ironically, that same resolve was what had Vegeta resisting and Trunks lashing back. As if he didn't have enough to deal with…Forcing himself not to falter, he met Vegeta's glare head on, invoking as much steely determination into his eyes as he possibly could. He meant business, and damn it, he was going to let his dad know that, even if he was terrified of this power he must possess.

Trunks watched as his father gazed at him with a conflicted expression, seemingly torn. Finally, he scowled faintly, but his voice was soft as he spoke. "You're entirely too much like me at the most inconvenient moments." He wearily rubbed his face with his hands, but then his expression hardened again as he turned toward Crion.

"Why must it be him? If someone must bare it, just give it to me."

Crion looked sympathetically at Vegeta, which only made the Saiyan prince glare at him harshly. Apparently Crion was excellent at reading his dad, and the disgruntled prince didn't like it one bit.

"I am afraid that's not possible," murmured Crion. "It must be Trunks, I have foreseen this. Your mind is too mature for you to be able to adjust to the rapid change, which is why Bardock had such a hard time of it. However, Trunks is at a crucial point in his life. Not yet an adult, but no longer a child, and as such, his mind has not finished developing. Because of that, he would have a far easier time adjusting than you would."

Vegeta growled under his breath and turned his piercing onyx eyes to the floor, fists clenched painfully at his sides. Abruptly, he lifted his eyes to meet Trunks', an unreadable emotion swimming in the depths of them. Trunks would have given anything to know what it meant, to be inside that enigma of a mind he possessed and know what he was thinking, what he was feeling, just this once. He realized with a bit of hysteria that he might in a few minutes. All of a sudden he had the absurd urge to giggle, but he suppressed it as he waited for a response, silent and unmoving.

"What will happen if this power is given to him? Is there any chance he could die?" questioned Vegeta in a tight voice, without looking away from Trunks.

"It certainly won't be pleasant but I doubt he will suffer much pain. He may faint or experience disorientation, things of that nature, but it is highly unlikely that he would die. At any rate, if that were to be so in his case, I would have foreseen it. He will come through the bestowal."

Vegeta's expression did not change, nor did his rigid posture. Trunks realized how hard this must be for him, a man as proud as he was. He was slow to show affection for anyone, but once he did he defended them with everything he had, and Trunks loved him all the more for that. But this was his fate, his choice, and no one would stand in the way of it. "Dad I can do this, I know I can. And I'm doing it with or without your approval," Trunks stated, very pleased that he had been able to keep his voice steady and calm.

Vegeta heaved a frustrated sigh and threaded his fingers through his hair in agitation, looking very much like he wanted to throw something. "All right fine hotshot, do what you must. Make sure it's what you want, because after this, there is no going back."

Crion nodded earnestly, solemn. "Your father is correct Trunks, you must be sure. The power to see the future is both blessing and curse, and in times of danger the visions will come to you even if you do not wish them to. Once you are older you may be able to suppress them, but not until you have a better grip on your power. It is unclear whether you, too, will have the ability to read people's thoughts, but if you do it may take some time to be able to block them out. This is no light matter, as I'm sure you're aware, and I want you to know the impact such a decision will have on you. Are you sure this is the path you wish to follow?" he asked, violet eyes scrutinizing Trunks' face.

Trunks closed his eyes and bowed his head slightly, mind numbing terror pushing to the surface of his consciousness. Perhaps he would lose his mind immediately after the bestowal, in which case, he would be oblivious to everything anyway. However, he was terrified of the thought that he could lose all control of himself, lose the very person he was, if he wasn't careful. Of course there was always the possibility that he would begin a slow descent into madness, prolonging the physical and mental agony for months, years…._Stop it, _he ordered himself with disgust. This wasn't helping him at all. There was only one option for him to take, and that was to go for it. He would never be able to live with himself if he didn't try.

Slowly, he opened his eyes and locked gazes with Crion, determined and resigned to his fate, whatever that may be. "Yes, I'm sure. Please just get on with it. I don't want to waste any time." _Or give myself time to think too much…_

"Very well, Trunks. You should expect to be disoriented and dizzy at the very least, and you may even faint, so it is probably better if you sit down. It is quite a simple method for me, really. Since I am so adept in my psychic abilities, it is possible for me to shift the brain waves of others in order for their minds to work in the same pattern that psychic Kanassan's minds do. That way, it becomes possible for them to see into the future, and sometimes read the minds of others. As I said before, it is unclear if all those of different species who receive this power have the same mind reading abilities. It appeared that Bardock merely had visions, but every case is different."

"What, there were others?" asked Vegeta, surprised.

"Yes, in the distant past," Crion responded vaguely, as if his mind was already moving on to other things. "Now Trunks, just sit right here," he murmured gently, leading the young demi-Saiyan to a crate, which had blankets piled on top, and sitting him down on it. Vegeta came to stand behind him, laying a comforting arm across his shoulders.

Trunks glanced back at him appreciatively, and Vegeta gave a tight smile in response. "You'll be the death of me yet, boy," he uttered in a rough voice, wearing the face he always pasted on when he was trying to hide his tension. His face may have been somewhat controlled, but his fist, the one Trunks could see, was clenched and white-knuckled.

"Are you ready?" Crion inquired gently. Despite his best efforts, Trunks' heart sped up in his chest, breath coming in quick gasps until he forced himself to focus on not hyperventilating. How stupid would it be if he suffocated before he could even go through with this? His lips twitched, almost lifting up to form a smile from his shaky attempt at humor, but he was able to stop himself. He had to at least _try _to maintain sanity for as long as possible and launching into random bouts of laughter was not going to cut it.

"I am," Trunks responded almost in a whisper, saying only what was necessary. He didn't want to risk his voice breaking if he said anything more.

"Don't drag it out. Just get on with it," Vegeta uttered, sounding tense and world weary.

Vegeta inched slightly closer to Trunks, arm wrapping even more tightly around his shoulders. _If that arm tightened anymore, I'd be in a choke hold, _Trunks thought, with a bit of sardonic humor. No doubt, he was probably preparing to catch him if he should faint. It was comforting to know that at least he wouldn't end up flat on his back, but it was also oddly unsettling to him, knowing he might need to be caught. He didn't like the thought of being rendered that weak, but there was nothing he could do about that now.

"Very well," murmured Crion, who stared intently at Trunks, as if trying to see down to the very depths of his soul. Crion's violet-hued eyes captured Trunks', holding him in that same frightening paralysis as he had the first time he saw him. It had been involuntary then. Now it was intentional, and that only served to freak Trunks out even more. Until now, he had succeeded somewhat in keeping the fear in check but now it spilled out in full, no longer subdued enough to be pushed back. Even had he been able to move, he would have been frozen with fear. A bright, glowing aura surrounded the Kanassan leader, making him appear as if he were a god.

Trunks stayed like that for what seemed an eternity to him, paralyzed in all ways possible, when suddenly, everything changed. An odd sensation tingled at the back of his mind, starting as a tiny pinpoint of discomfort, but spreading quickly and painfully throughout his mind. Trunks screamed and clutched his head in his hands, only vaguely registering that his paralysis was no longer there. He couldn't think of anything but the all consuming pain, couldn't care about anything but the unseen powerful force, riddling his brain with what felt like one thousand tiny needles shoved straight through his skull. Frantically, he scratched roughly at his skull, wanting something, _anything _to take away the pain.

Through the agony, Trunks vaguely registered a panicked voice shouting to someone, and another person saying something back. They were familiar voices, each of them, but try as he might, he could not remember who they belonged to.

"Trunks?! Trunks, answer me!" shouted the anguished voice. He wasn't sure who it belonged to, and trying to remember hurt his head even more, but he didn't want the man to be sad. He wanted to tell him not to be afraid, but he couldn't find the strength to speak.

He felt himself being lifted into someone's arms, and, exhausted, Trunks gave in and sank into the waiting black void that had been threatening to engulf him. Before he knew what was happening, he was dragged off into a deep sleep.

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"You said there wouldn't be that much pain, you lying son of a bitch!" Vegeta screamed in rage, cradling his unconscious son on his lap. How could he have been so stupid?! He'd been opposed to this all along, yet he'd let it happen anyway. He should have just grabbed Trunks and forced him off of this hellhole of a planet before it was too late, but now it really _was _too late. The damage was done, and there was no taking it back.

He couldn't believe he was even thinking this, but his suddenly present conscience had gotten in the way. Just as soon as he'd let himself feel sorry for these poor pitiful Kanassans, as soon as he'd seen Trunks' determined face as he defended his decision, he'd been done for. The boy had been scared out of his wits, yet he'd felt a desire to help them anyway, and this is what he got in return for his kindness and courage. This was exactly why Vegeta kept such a tight reign on emotions like compassion. Besides, what did he know of this Braeden, and his true intentions? Was it even worth it, having to go through all of this in order to fight a foe they hadn't even seen?

"Answer me, now! What the hell just happened?! You'd better explain, or I swear, on my honor, you will pay!" he seethed, anger ripping out of him in waves so fierce, he was literally shaking. He hadn't been this angry in years, and that was saying quite a bit for him. Something in him had snapped when he'd seen Trunks fall to pieces right in front of him, clutching and clawing at his head as if he were trying to dig out his own brain.

Crion crouched worriedly beside Vegeta, reaching a hand out to touch Trunks' forehead. Before he could however, Vegeta's fist shot out at the Kanassan leader, who narrowly avoided it. In his rage, he had forgotten to guard his thoughts. _Of course. Idiot, _he chastised himself.

Forcing himself to stop fuming long enough to give the asshole a verbal thrashing, he looked toward Crion, who seemed genuinely perplexed. He spoke in a regretful tone, his scaled brow furrowed in confusion. "I am truly sorry; I didn't know his reaction would be so violent. The few records we have of experiences such as this have not shown such intense pain to occur."

"If you're so great at _seeing _things, than why didn't you see his reaction, you idiot!?" Vegeta shouted, refusing to be pacified so easily.

"The future is not always set in stone, Vegeta. Things can change, and on top of that, I do not always see it down to the smallest detail. That is simply not possible, not for me or for anyone," Crion explained, in a placating tone. "Hold on for just one moment."

Crion closed his eyes and seemed to concentrate for a second, opening them after a few moments to look at Vegeta. "He'll be alright. He is only unconscious, not damaged."

"You'd better be right," he grumbled, only half satisfied. Gazing down at his son, he gently moved lavender locks of hair away from his face. His features were currently slack, expression almost peaceful in its youthful slumber. It was times like these that the boy looked so young…perhaps too young. Not that it mattered now, he sneered to himself.

Abruptly, the door to the storehouse burst open and a Kanassan rushed in, sprinting to Crion's side. His scales were a deep salmon color, almost orange in hue, and his light green eyes stared into Crion's in panic. He wore a special insignia on his clothing, obviously signifying whatever rank he held.

"My lord, there you are, thank the gods I have found you at last!"

Crion placed a steadying hand on the man's shoulder, eyes narrowing in concern. "What is the matter? What is so urgent that you must interrupt this conference? You know better than anyone else how important it is, Nathan."

The man called Nathan gazed toward Vegeta for the first time, passing over both he and the unconscious form of Trunks without surprise. Apparently, this guy was in on the vision too. _A second in command perhaps,_ Vegeta mused.

"Braeden departed from the planet over five hours ago. I would have contacted you sooner, but there was a fight staged in order to keep us occupied so he could escape. It took me this long to get our forces calmed down and organized, and just to find you. I wasn't quite sure where you would have taken them," he finished in a solemn tone, gesturing toward Vegeta and Trunks.

Crion's lips tightened into a thin, grim line, and his voice was bleak as he answered. "Yet another event has slipped through the cracks. Someone should have seen this. I should have seen this, yet I could not. I must be getting old," he said, for the first time sounding exhausted. Vegeta had noticed the air of authority and power the Kanassan always carried with him. Even the Saiyan prince had no choice but to acknowledge this man's power, yet now he sounded weak and tired. A moment of such vulnerability had Vegeta cringing, just thinking about even the remote possibility of that happening to _him _someday.

The truth was clear to Vegeta, even without it being said. The fiend was headed toward Earth, and that wasn't even the worst of it. Once he arrived, there would be no one there to defend the planet, no one except for a single young Saiyan. In some strange, sick twist of fate, Kakarot and his son had chosen this very same time to train among the stars, deep in the depths of space as he and Trunks had set out to do. Only one man would be there for Braeden to target…

Crion seemed to come back to himself then, for he straightened his spine and pierced Vegeta with his intelligent gaze, any trace of weariness gone from the surface. "I see you know what this means, prince. Go with all haste; go, and defend your Earth! His forces will be subdued here, I assure you. I doubt Braeden will send for them, but even if he does, we will not let them escape. Just worry about Braeden," he uttered, a new edge of steel underlying his tone.

For once, Vegeta had no argument for that, and no desire for there to be one. All he knew was, if he didn't get back to the Earth _now_, there would be trouble. Big trouble. He didn't want to think about what could happen to his baby daughter, to his wife, or to the lone Saiyan who was left there to face Braeden alone. Once more he addressed Crion, cradling Trunks in his arms as he stood and prepared to dash out of the room.

"Stay alive, Kanassan. Braeden will be defeated, mark my words, but your people are your responsibility and yours alone, not mine. Once I'm through with him, he won't be in any condition to bother anyone, ever again. But mark my words, if my son does not get through this dreadful, so called gift you gave him, it won't matter where Braeden is. I'll kill you myself." With that, he sprinted out of the room at top speed, feeling two pairs of keen eyes boring into his back. Try as he might, he could not escape the room without hearing one last, soft response, solemn in tone; possessing a deep ring of finality.

"Good luck, Vegeta… Trunks. Use your power well, and do not falter. I only pray that we will both live long enough to see your greatness come to fruition."

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Shocking sights flashed through his mind, startling him into a strange, dream-like awareness. Trunks watched, confused and afraid, as visions danced in front of him, almost as if they were scenes taken from a horror movie. Hovering as if floating on air, he tried to understand what was going on, but it only took a second. A premonition already, and so soon after receiving the gift.

Blood…blood all over he ground. Trunks gazed transfixed into a face with deep red scales, and malevolent black eyes. Eyes so terrible, they put those of Frieza to shame, so dark and twisted you had to shrink away. Those evil pits of black shined with horrific glee as they took in the sight of the broken body that lay crumpled on the landscape, lying face down and surrounded by a pool of his own blood.

_You see, you are nothing. You just needed me to show you that,_ sneered the horrible Kanassan, addressing the broken man who lie dying before him. Trunks shook his head in disbelieving horror. He tried to run to him, to help the man who could no longer be helped, but his efforts were futile. He tried to reach out and tear this evil Kanassan apart limb by limb, but his efforts were in vain.

Suddenly, the Kanassan spit on the corpse, kneeling to grab the chin of the man he had stolen the life from. He tilted the face of the man upward, revealing a bloodied, shockingly recognizable mass of flesh and bone. Trunk's heart stopped as he gazed into the familiar, yet lifeless face, tears burning in his eyes, and a blood curdling scream rising in his throat.

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Trunks woke to the sound of his own screams, tears brimming his eyes. Bile rose fast into his throat, and before he could stop it, he was hunched over on his knees, violently retching his stomach's contents onto the hard, spaceship floor. Someone wrapped an arm around his waist to support him, patting his back awkwardly in what was suppose to be an attempt at comfort. Shaking and coughing, he forced himself to look up through streaming eyes into the face of his frantic father, who knelt beside him.

"Trunks, what is it, what's the matter with you?!" shouted Vegeta, voice frantic and laced with uncharacteristic fear.

He didn't want to remember that awful premonition, didn't want to see the face that had been so horribly defiled and broken, white with death. _No, no, no, Kami, no. This can't be happening…_ He'd gotten this gift in order to stop these things from happening! Maybe there was time to change things, to stop him from suffering that hideous death.

"We have to go home now; we have to warn everyone before it's too late! Please tell me we're headed home, we have to or he's going to die, he'll die dad…" he moaned, voice cracking several times before he could finish the sentence.

"What are you talking about? Who's going to die?!"

Trunks bit down on his lip so hard he drew blood, and he forced himself to say the name that haunted him, barely suppressing a whimper.

"Gohan."

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Phew, another really long chapter. I feel terrible for ending it that way, but don't worry; I'll have the next chapter out in no time. Will Trunks' horrifying premonition come true? Find out in the next installment! As always, reviews are much appreciated.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Vegeta took one look at Trunks' face and knew the boy was dead serious. Literally. His cerulean eyes were wild with terror and dread, his face haunted and etched with misery. Without another word, Vegeta turned and sprinted to the communications system that kept them connected to Bulma, cursing along the way. Damn it all, he'd had a feeling this would happen ever since leaving that storehouse, especially once Trunks had become restless as he'd slept. Now his worst fears had been realized, and as far away as he was from Earth, there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

Grabbing for the controls, he activated the device, then realized with frustration that it was still malfunctioning. There was no way they could contact Bulma to have her warn Gohan now. "Argh! Communications is down, I can't contact your mother, and I don't know what the hell number to Kakarot's comm is!" he yelled, a wide eyed Trunks staring at him from the floor, where he was still sitting.

"B-But we have to do something!" screamed Trunks, teetering on the edge of hysteria.

"We're going as fast as we can," Vegeta uttered tightly. He knew he didn't sound very hopeful, which wasn't helping Trunks, but the boy knew how bad this situation was anyway. Hiding his own tension wouldn't help anyone at this point, the situation was that desperate. With luck, they could be back to Earth in one day's time. He just hoped it would be enough.

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Sunlight filtered through the open window, filling the room with warmth and the brightest light. It didn't matter what the weather was. Even if it had been raining it would have been one of the brightest days of his life. Son Gohan walked over to the bed, perching on the end to gaze at his beautiful wife and infant daughter. His two beautiful girls, he thought with delighted disbelief.

Gohan reached out to caress Videl's cheek, and she smiled as he leaned forward to kiss their infant daughter Pan softly on the forehead. He couldn't believe she'd only been born just three weeks ago, because he couldn't imagine his life without her. A day without counting little fingers and toes seemed so bleak to him; a night without holding her in his arms and singing her to sleep was equally hard to imagine. Not only had he been lucky enough to find Videl, but he also had the greatest gift any man could ever receive from the woman he loved. A child of his own flesh and blood, to have and to hold, always and forever. When he had gazed into Videl's eyes on their wedding day promising to love her forever, he hadn't realized at the time that the same everlasting love would be applied to the children she gave him. It had never really sunk in, not until the day his wife had told him she was pregnant. He had fallen in love with that baby right then and there, and since then, had never stopped…would never stop. Not as long as he lived and breathed, not even in death.

Videl scooted forward, snuggling into Gohan's waiting arms with a content sigh. Gohan tightened his hold around her, happier than he'd ever been. Even the moment when he'd been reunited with his dad after seven years couldn't compare to the happiness he felt now.

"Sometimes I wonder how we got so lucky, Gohan. I just hope it never ends," Videl murmured, kissing the top of Pan's forehead, and burrowing deeper into Gohan's arms.

He had just opened his mouth to reply when a powerful presence suddenly flared into existence, only several hundred miles away. At first he thought it might be just one of the others returning from their trip, but that couldn't be right. They had all left in pairs, and he would have recognized their power signatures immediately. No, this was different, and sinister; he could tell. Whoever this was, he wasn't here for anything good, the evil power emanating from him was enough proof of that. Why hadn't he sensed him sooner? If only he'd kept up his training more diligently over the years…

"Gohan? What's wrong?" asked Videl, anxious face turned up to his. Gohan gazed down into his wife's sapphire eyes, and saw that they swam with confusion and worry.

"I'm not sure. There's a powerful presence that suddenly arrived on Earth, and it certainly isn't someone pleasant. It's evil Videl, I can sense it. I have to go."

"Well, don't go alone! You could call your dad and Goten; they could be here in seconds with instant transmission. Or even Piccolo, you know he'd help you through anything he could!" she uttered, quietly as not to wake the baby, but still with that fierce edge he'd always loved.

Part of him told him she was right; that he shouldn't try to handle this alone, but another part of him wasn't so sure. Piccolo would be needed at Kami's lookout, in case Dende needed protecting from this new enemy. More importantly, he was worried about Goten. If his little brother were to get involved in a fight like this now, while he was still so sloppy and careless, he may get himself killed, or at least slow the others down. On top of that, Trunks and Vegeta were too far away to be of immediate help. He had to do this alone, at least for now.

"No, I can handle this. Piccolo will be needed on the lookout, and there's no reason to ruin dad and Goten's trip. Dad's been trying to get Goten to train forever. Now that he's finally agreed, it would be a shame to ruin it. That kid doesn't do anything anymore," he replied with a chuckle. "My goofy little brother has to grow up sometime, something has to make that happen. That something isn't a major battle, at least not right now. He'd get himself killed."

"You have a point. He can get really careless," said Videl, biting her lip. "I don't like the thought of you going alone though Gohan, I have a bad feeling about this."

"Hey, don't worry; I'll be fine, okay? I defeated the great Cell, remember?" Gohan joked, tipping her chin up to press a quick kiss to her lips. He started to rise off of the bed, but Videl grabbed his arm and held him firmly in place.

"Is that what this is about? Don't throw your life away just because you're trying to be a hero Gohan. You're not the same person you were back then, and this is a totally different enemy. You aren't just handling this alone out of pride, are you?"

Gohan stopped to think, searching for answers deep inside himself. He thought he'd know the answer to that, but now he wasn't so sure. Maybe there was a part of him that wished to be so strong, just a small part of him that yearned for the power he'd held when he'd defeated Cell, but there were more important things overshadowing that selfish desire. Weren't there?

He silently ran his options through his head, debating with himself. He could call his dad and have he and Goten return, but if he did that, Goten would want in on the fight and Goku probably wouldn't stop him. His little brother was still far too careless; he'd gotten even sloppier than Gohan had ever been, and that was saying a lot. He didn't want his little brother dead, even if they did have the dragonballs. They couldn't keep relying on them all the time. Another option would be to assemble the available Z fighters, but he dropped that idea almost immediately. This guy was too strong for them, except perhaps Piccolo, but it would be safer if he stayed at Kami's lookout to protect Dende.

That left only one option; to go meet the threat himself. Maybe it was stupid, and impulsive, but he had no choice. No way was he about to sit around and wait for the enemy to come here, where his family was. He didn't much like the thought of killing someone without even giving them a chance, but he would not risk his family.

"This is the only way Videl, I'm sure of it," he finally replied, standing up and taking his wife's hand to pull her up with him.

"Come back to me, I mean it! I swear, if you die on me, I'll never forgive you!" Videl demanded, cupping his cheek with her free hand.

"Don't worry; I'll be back before you know it. Now you take care of your mama while I'm gone, okay Pan? Papa's got a mean man to take care of," he cooed, lifting a finger to caress her tiny cheek, and bending to kiss her on the forehead. A lump rose into his throat as he gazed into the face of his baby daughter, a strange sense of sadness striking him so suddenly it shook him, but he struggled to keep that out of his expression as he pushed it out of the way. There was no reason to feel like this was the last time he'd see her face, none at all. Thoughts like that would only ensure his failure.

When he was sure his expression was molded into something resembling complete confidence, he looked up from Pan and cupped Videl's chin, capturing her lips in a scorching kiss. For a second, the passion of the moment sent his mind spiraling off into a different direction, completely distracting him from everything else. Abruptly, he wished he could stay and love her as she deserved, wished he could take her into his arms and make sweet, passionate love to her in the bright light of the morning sun. They could always put Pan into her crib in the other room…

What was wrong with him? This sense of desperation and urgency was completely irrational. He'd be back before either of them could miss each other. Forcing himself to remember his new found purpose and the baby in Videl's arms, he pulled away, giving her cheek one last caress before turning to open the door.

"I love you," Videl murmured from behind him. "Please be careful…"

Gohan looked back over his shoulder to see her standing there, hair tousled with sleep, eyes bright with worry and unconditional love, and knew that he would always remember her just like that, even though it would irritate her to death. Her beauty was always without bounds to him, but this was beauty in its most natural form, the beauty of a mother with her child as she watched her love depart. Gohan chuckled softly to himself, realizing how cliché this all sounded, but he couldn't seem to help himself.

"I love you more, my Great Saiyawoman," he said with a lopsided grim. "No matter where I go, I'll always be fine if I have my two beautiful girls right here waiting for me."

Without another word, he turned and stepped outside, shooting up into the sky in one fluid jump. By the time Videl found the words to speak, he was already gone, so he didn't see her as she crept over to the phone to dial the number of a certain wayward spaceship, nor did he hear the words she spoke into the receiver.

"Goku? It's bad, you need to come back here right now!"

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On and on he flew through the sunlit sky, locked onto the power level of the man he sought. Gohan increased his speed ever so slightly, eager to get to him before he took off. He found it rather odd that the power level stayed in one place, unmoving. Perhaps the man had stopped to rest, and was unaware of his approach. Or maybe, just maybe, he was waiting for him.

Finally, a stretch of grassy, mountainous terrain laid spread out below him, and he scanned the area for his foe. Deep green trees dotted the landscape here and there near the base of a massive mountain, further serving to cloak the unknown man's location, or so Gohan assumed. Reaching further out with his senses, he locked onto the malevolent power signature and headed in the direction where it was located, descending to land on the ground near a sparse patch of grassy field on the east side of the mountain.

Suddenly, the trees and brush to his left rustled, and Gohan jerked toward the sound to see an unusual being step out of the trees. At first, he had no clue what manner of being this man was, but as he stepped further into the sun, Gohan knew exactly what race this was. _Kanassan…but how can that be? They became extinct around the same time as the Saiyans! _

He was a fairly stocky, yet muscular man, with deep red scales coating his body, and the darkest eyes he had ever seen, not only in color, but in depth as well. They were the most malevolent, hateful eyes he had ever had the displeasure of gazing into, and they gleamed with malice and cunning as he sized Gohan up, just as Gohan himself was sizing him up in turn. This man was not one to be trifled with, and those malevolent eyes suggested that he would get exactly what he wanted, no matter what the cost. Suddenly, the Kanassan's lips curled up into a twisted parody of a smile, terrifying in all of its horrific glee.

"So it is you. This is too much, I cannot believe my luck. The only Saiyan here and he just so happens to be one of _his _descendants!" the Kanassan cackled in a voice so filled with anticipation, it made chills run up and down Gohan's spine. He wasn't exactly sure what he meant by that, but it didn't sound good.

"Who are you, and what do you want here?" Gohan uttered forcefully.

"The name is Braeden you worm, do not forget it. You know what I am, do you not boy? Can't guess what my intentions are from there? Hmm, I suppose not. Saiyans are stupid, primitive monkeys, all of them. You'd probably hurt yourself trying to puzzle it out."

Gohan felt his temper boil at the word monkey, and his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides. As impossible as it sounded, the man had actually managed to say it with even more contempt than Frieza had. This was sounding more and more like a classic, revenge on the Saiyans scenario to him.

"Oh really, is that what you think? Don't be so sure. Since the Saiyans supposedly destroyed your race, you now want to destroy what's left of ours. Classic revenge scenario, obviously. That's just stupid. If you really want your revenge, than go see Frieza in hell!"

Braeden scowled, looking more impatient than angry. "I don't have time for idle chatter. I've big plans for you, grandson of Bardock, as well as your pathetic family. Oh yes, _big _plans…" he finished, rubbing his hands together in delight.

So that was it then…not only was Gohan half Saiyan, he was related to Bardock, who had been partly responsible for the destruction on planet Kanassa. _Which makes killing me all the more sweet._

"We'll just see about that, won't we? You'll never take me without a fight Braeden, you can count on that. What do you plan to do? Even if you did kill me, that would only raise the alarm for the others when they return. Any chance you have for stealth would be gone!"

"Ah, but that is the idea. Gohan, was it?" replied Braeden, smiling smugly. _I never told him my name…_Gohan realized, with a shiver of dread. _He already knows who I am._

"You didn't honestly think I would launch a conquest such as this without doing my research, did you? I know all about you and every one of your little Saiyan friends. Strengths, weaknesses… I've heard that you are especially loath to fight unless necessary, yes? You are well liked by everyone. If you were to perish…oh everyone would just be so upset, don't you think? They would all rise to the chance to avenge your miserable death! And Bardock's other two descendants will be the first to follow you to the grave!" Braeden cackled, smiling cruelly.

"You won't even get a chance to reach them! Not while I'm around!" Gohan yelled, powering up immediately afterward. An exhilarating rush of power flowed through him as he completed the transformation to a Super Saiyan, adrenaline pumping fast through his veins

"Is that the best you have, boy? Let me show you what real power looks like!" bellowed Braeden, screaming with the intensity of his display of power. A fiery red aura surrounded the Kanassan's powered up form, making it appear as if the flames of hell engulfed his very being. There was no significant change in his appearance or body form, but the drastic spike in his power level was overwhelming to Gohan. _This is bad…_he should have called on his dad and Goten after all; he could have made up for Goten's slack if forced, right? Having to cover for someone slower was better than facing this alone, but it was too late for that, too late for regrets. Even so, he couldn't stop these regretful thoughts. He should never have come here alone.

Had he been hiding from the truth all along? Was coming here to face this new enemy alone really a subconscious attempt to reclaim his long lost power, his pride? _I'm such a fool…how could I let this happen?! _Even Vegeta would not be so rash, not anymore. Gohan had made the ultimate mistake, and he was going to have to pay for it.

"So you finally see how pathetic you are, do you? Too little too late, _boy_!" Braeden sneered, lunging for the young demi-Saiyan. Gohan hastily teleported out of the way to avoid the speeding fist, reappearing behind Braeden to aim his own punch at the back of his head. Braeden twisted around and caught Gohan's fist in his hand, swinging him around and throwing him into a nearby boulder.

Gohan staggered painfully to his feet, reaching up to rub his hand over his stinging head. When he dropped it again, he saw that his palm was dirty and heavily stained with crimson blood. Not having any time to waste worrying about it, he quickly raised himself to full power, springing up into the sky with a thundering cry and rushing towards Braeden, his stealthy movements a blur to the naked eye. Cupping his hands in the correct formation, he gathered ki energy together to launch into one powerful beam of blue-white light.

"Kamehameha!" he screamed, pushing the energy forward and releasing it with a feral cry. He heard a satisfying yelp at the receiving end of the blast, and smiled at the sound. Perhaps he could pull this off after all, if he only concentrated and gave it everything he had.

Gohan had scarcely had time to think that when the Kanassan screamed in rage and teleported behind him, slamming his elbow roughly in the same spot he'd been wounded before. Dizzy and rocked with pain though he was, he managed to pull off a reversal, teleporting himself back over to Braeden and exchanging a series of heated punches and kicks, with only a few blows connecting for each warrior. Finally, after going at it head to head for what seemed to Gohan an eternity, the two fighters sprang apart and stopped just a few feet away from each other, gathering blasts in outstretched hands and shooting them forward with all of their strength.

The two yellow beams crashed together with astounding force, crackling as they met. Gohan pushed and pushed for all he was worth; giving everything he had to this battle of raw ki power, but before long, he could feel his strength slipping away from him as his own beam of yellow light yielded to the force Braeden's.

The deadly beam struck him squarely in the upper half of his torso and left shoulder, sending him flying through the air to crash into the mountain. Gohan groped desperately for something to halt his descent as he slid down the length of the mountain, but try as he might he could find nothing that he could keep his grip on. Crashing down to the base of the mountain, he managed to roll to the side, just barely having the strength left to avoid a chunk of falling rock.

Gohan moaned, trying desperately to work his way through the sea of dizziness and pain that overwhelmed him, blood running in rivulets down his face and obscuring his vision. He tried to push himself up, but he couldn't even get both arms underneath him. The left side of his upper body was so shattered, he couldn't move, could hardly manage to draw one shallow breath after another.

Almost before his muddled brain could register it, Braeden was beside him, kicking him over onto his side and grinding his face into the mud. Gohan whimpered softly into the ground, clinging desperately to consciousness with the last of his strength as his eyes drifted heavily shut, and try as he might, he could not manage to pry them open again.

"You see, you are nothing. You just needed me to show you that," seethed the voice of his sinister foe, sounding far off and entirely unreachable. The sound of someone crouching down reached the young Saiyan's ears as cold fingers groped his chin, jerking his head around in order to better glimpse his face, or so Gohan assumed. His tightly shut eyes could decipher nothing from the darkness of the inside of his eyelids.

Farther and farther Gohan slipped, retreating into the deepest parts of his mind and passing dangerously close to the barrier of unconsciousness, or perhaps it was death; he didn't know which…he knew nothing anymore. _I've failed…again. Videl, Pan, everyone…I'm sorry…_he cried in despair, as the tides of pain and hopelessness dragged him under.

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*gulp* I have to stop doing that…someone is going to stone me to death for all these cliffhangers XD. I'll update as promptly as possible, that's a promise, as always. Reviews are always appreciated!


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Trunks sat curled up on the couch in the spaceship, chin resting on his drawn up knees. His dad had said they'd be back home within an hour or two, but despite that an unshakable sense of dread gripped him and wouldn't let go. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't get the image of Gohan's broken body out of his head; whenever he closed his eyes there it was, that same horrifying vision. He was tired, but he couldn't sleep, could hardly eat. Not that he would want to sleep anymore... Who knows what he would dream about these days. _Ugh, I'm such a coward, _he scoffed at himself, disgusted. Sure he was scared, but that gave him no right at all to try to prevent these visions from happening. Trunks closed his eyes and sighed, knowing that he had delayed the inevitable for as long as he could. Forcing himself to relax as much as he was able, he tried to allow his own drowsiness to lull him to sleep, and, though it took longer than it should have, he eventually achieved something bordering on awake and asleep. That was probably as good as it was going to get.

It happened so suddenly, it startled him. One second he was lightly dozing on the couch, the next his consciousness was jerked into hazy awareness; not to his surroundings but to something else with a strange dreamlike quality, and he knew it was too detailed to be a normal dream. Another vision, just as he had feared would happen.

It started in the same setting as the other vision, with Gohan lying unconscious in the background, but Trunks was only vaguely aware of that. What he saw taking place right in front of him interested him much more, though not necessarily because it was bad. This might even be a good thing. Braeden stood motionless, eyes widened in surprise, which quickly turned to outrage. _What are they doing here?! Hmph. Fine, I'll just have to teach them a lesson as well! Filthy Saiyans, will you try to rescue your comrade? Your efforts will be in vain! Come, stop me if you can. _Braeden abruptly stopped talking, eyes shining. _Yes…yes, that's it! As long as my information is correct, I have the perfect plan, to take them down, _said the Kanassan, though the words had a vague quality to them as well, as if everything were shrouded in a veil of mist. Sneering to himself, Braeden strode over to Gohan and kicked him in the head, not getting even a faint response from the demi-Saiyan.

Trunks watched, furious and sickened, as Braeden ground his foot into Gohan's head, shoving his face further into the ground and making Trunks wish with all his heart that he could step out of this dreamlike haze and strangle the miserable asshole. However, before he could even attempt the impossible feat, the Kanassan's head jerked to the right and he uttered a delighted cry, just as the visions before Trunks' eyes slowly faded to black.

Trunks gasped as his eyes sprung open, flinging himself off of the couch and to his feet. He had to find his dad to tell him about this right away. However there was no need, for Vegeta, having heard Trunks' uttered gasp, rushed into the room, face harsh and intense, as if it were carved out of stone.

"What is it?" asked Vegeta, voice grim.

"Something's changed…I'm not sure if it's good or bad," replied Trunks, going on to hastily explain what he had seen. Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest and paced the length of the room, looking thoughtful and muttering out loud, though Trunks suspected it was probably as much for his own benefit as it was for Trunks's.

"Well, it would be hard for things to get any worse, but I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if they did. If it weren't for bad luck, I'd have no luck at all," Vegeta muttered cynically.

"Maybe Goku and Goten sensed what was happening to Gohan and went back to Earth to help," Trunks suggested.

"Yes…. I just hope those two buffoons don't screw everything up before we arrive," Vegeta uttered, saying it with a measure of contempt, but Trunks could detect a hint of worry coloring his tone. Only someone who knew him well would have picked it up. Nevertheless, it was there. His dad probably didn't want to see anyone die any more than Trunks did.

Walking slowly over to the viewport, Trunks watched the stars fly by as their spaceship made its way to earth, wishing he could shine with brilliance as they did. If only his vision hadn't been so vague. He'd wanted vague after the shockingly vivid first one but now, in a strange twist of irony, he wished he hadn't gotten his wish. Despite the possibility that help had arrived for Gohan, Trunks knew that this couldn't be the end of trouble. He just hoped they'd get back to Earth in time to help, before someone else got hurt, or much worse than that.

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A harsh, cold wind blew through the air, nipping at his skin and chilling him to the bone. Son Goku stood among the rugged mountain terrain, Goten fidgeting restlessly beside him. He had to try to figure out what was the best way to go about this. Whoever it was that was giving Gohan trouble probably already knew they were here, so maybe he should just rush into battle, and fast, before any more harm came to his eldest son. As tactless as that seemed, he didn't have much of a choice. There was no time to waste, they had to move. Goten was making progress in training, so he could hold his own. If not, then Goku would just have to pick up the slack for him. No need to get worked up over mistakes, ChiChi did enough of that to last them all for awhile. _She'd kill me if I ever said that to her,_ thought Goku, cringing inwardly. But she was _really _going to kill him when she found out about this.

"Come on, come on! What are we waiting for? Let's go, dad!" cried Goten, practically bouncing up and down with impatience. "Let's save Gohan and teach that guy a lesson!"

"There really isn't any other choice… I can barely feel Gohan's power level anymore. I hope we're not too late. Just be careful Goten, don't let this enemy get to you, he'll just take advantage of you."

"Okay fine, now let's go!" Goten shouted, sounding a little too eager. Goku gave him a slightly worried glance, but said nothing. He hoped his youngest son wouldn't get himself into trouble. Reaching out, Goku grabbed a hold of Goten's shoulder, using instant transmission to teleport them quickly to the site of the battle.

They came to rest in a small clearing surrounded by trees, a massive mountain standing imposingly above them. Goten uttered a small, pained cry as Goku gasped in horror, shocked by the sad condition his eldest son was in. He had been prepared for whatever enemy he might encounter, but he hadn't expected to see Gohan so severely battered and beaten. A fish-like man with deep red scales and terrible black eyes stood with his back to them, grinding Gohan's face into the mud-packed ground. The young demi Saiyan didn't even move, didn't make a single sound despite the fact that his face was smashed into the ground. It couldn't be easy to breathe like that, yet there was no struggle from the still form.

The man, noticing their presence, jerked his head in their direction and gasped, but Goku couldn't figure out if the sound was one of surprise or delight. It didn't matter, there could be no mercy for him after what he'd done to Gohan; Goku had to remember that. He couldn't let compassion get in the way, not this time. But, he at least had to know _why_ this was happening. He'd never seen the man in his life!

"You monster! Who are you? Why are you doing this?! I've never done anything to you, and neither has Gohan. I've never even seen you!" shouted Goku.

The man laughed, a harsh cruel sound, and spoke in a deep, grating voice. "Haven't done anything, have you? Hmph. You really are as clueless as they say you are. You will address me as Lord Braeden, the Kanassan who will finally eliminate all of you filthy monkeys for what you did to my people! If you are all as weak as this fool here, it shouldn't be much trouble at all!"

Kanassan? It sounded familiar. He thought Vegeta had said something about that before, about the Saiyans destroying a race of people called the Kanassans, but Goku had never heard much more than that. All he knew was, he could not allow this to go on. He had to get Gohan help, and fast. As they spoke he could literally feel his son's life force energy slipping away. He wouldn't let him die, he couldn't. Whatever happened to himself didn't matter, as long as his children and everyone else got out of it alive.

"That's foolish! I'm sorry about what happened to your people, I really am, but we had nothing to do with it!"

Braeden snorted in disgust. "It matters not, you're all the same. All the Saiyans have ever done is beat down the weak, the helpless. It makes no difference if you are of a different generation. You are all the same to me! Filthy little maggots! Lower than worms!" He gazed down at the unconscious form of Gohan with a malicious, yet calculating sneer on his face, a horrific eagerness animating his features. "Now which of his limbs should I rip off first, I wonder? There is so much to choose from."

Goku let a low snarl loose, angry, as Goten literally shook with rage beside him, pumping his fist into the air in rage.

"Fine. I see there's no talking to you!" shouted Goku, powering up to Super Saiyan one level. He would test the waters first, then go up another level if need be. He could already see that it would probably be a mistake to let Goten fight him; his youngest son was simply too inexperienced and reckless. Goku knew that he might not have a choice but to let him fight, but for now, it was best to keep him out of it for as long as possible. "Stay out of this Goten! He's out of your league. I'll call you in if I need you!"

"I- but…" Goten sputtered, but Goku cut him off.

"Just do it, son!"

Goten let out a frustrated sigh, but said nothing. He started to glide back a safe distance, when Braeden, in a sly tone, said, "That's right little Saiyan, you are no match for me! Run and hide with your tail between your legs like the coward you are."

"What did you just say to me!?"

"What a shame. Poor little Goten…you are always left on the sidelines whenever possible, aren't you? They think you're a screw up. Poor, poor little Goten…can't do anything right. Even your own father doesn't think you can handle this…shame, shame," Braeden uttered, shaking his head in mock pity. _What is he up to…?_ Goku thought. It was as if he knew Goten's every weakness and was praying on them.

"I'll show you who can handle you!" screamed Goten, rushing forward without even bothering to power up.

"Goten, no!" Goku screamed, horrified. He was going to get killed for being so reckless. If he absolutely had to let Goten fight, they had to do it together, and the right way, or they would be no help to anyone, Gohan included. All of his thoughts stopped short when he saw Goten aim sloppy, yet furious punches at Braeden, who quickly side stepped and sent Goten sprawling forward to land on top of Gohan. Braeden stood a few feet away, preparing to shoot a deadly beam…._Death Shot_, Goku realized with a sick feeling. A modification of Frieza's Death Beam, yet much more powerful, he could tell by the power that emanated off of the blast. Only a second or two had passed since Goten had rushed forward, yet the lives of both of his sons hung in the balance in just that short amount of time. The way Braeden was angling the blast, it would strike straight through the vital organs of both of his sons, almost surely killing them. He couldn't let that happen…he wouldn't.

There was no time to power up further and stop the Death Shot in its tracks, no hope of moving them all to safety in time…not without a sacrifice in return. In that moment, he knew what he must do. Though it was merely a tenth of a second, a fraction of a moment in time, he needed nothing longer than that. There was no doubting that this was right. If only he could be sure it would give Gohan and Goten the time they needed to get away, but there was no time to think anything else out. He could never let his sons die, not when there was a chance to stop it. Goku resolved himself to his fate, ready to sacrifice his life to save the ones he loved the most. Hastily preparing to teleport in front of them, he once again wished he could be sure they would survive, when suddenly he sensed Vegeta and Trunks headed this way, perhaps even as close as mere minutes. It wouldn't make a difference in Goku's own fate, but this way, he knew his sons would be safe with Vegeta. Armed with the knowledge that his boys would survive, he smiled to himself, teleporting to act as a shield for his two sons without a moment's hesitation, and not a moment too soon.

The sickening, yellow orb of light seared into his flesh, crushing his rib cage and causing it to collapse on top of his lungs, shattering numerous other bones, and tearing through tender flesh to shred his beating heart. Goku fell heavily to his knees, gagging and coughing, as rivers of deep red blood poured out of the massive wound to form a pool on the ground around him.

"Nooooo, dad, no, no!" Goten screamed, rushing forward just in time to catch his mortally wounded father as he fell.

Goku struggled to form words through his blood drenched mouth, desperation seizing him. Not for himself, but for his sons. They had to get away while they still had the chance. With luck, maybe Braeden would be more interested in torturing him; making his last moments on Earth more agonizing…he seemed to really like torture. That was alright…Goku was prepared for whatever would be thrown at him. There was already so much pain, it hardly mattered anymore. Spasms of terrible agony hit him in crashing waves, making it almost impossible to do anything but lie still, but he refused to give in to the hopelessness that threatened to engulf him. He knew death wouldn't be far off now…he could feel his life force energy slipping through his fingers right this moment as he struggled…but not yet. He couldn't die just yet. He had to tell him to leave him here…to grab Gohan and, as Vegeta would say, run like hell. If the Saiyan prince would ever consider running, that is…

"G-Got-en, run. Go…. Leave…me," Goku croaked, prying his tired eyes open to gaze up at his son, whose sheer horror was reflected in the features of his face and the tears in his eyes.

"Never, no. I can't…," sobbed Goten, tightening his grip on Goku as if he could prevent his imminent death that way, and Goku loved him all the more for that.

He could hear the evil Kanassan in the background, laughing in delighted glee as if this were a horror movie and his least favorite character had just died, but that didn't matter either. Only his boys did. He had to focus, he could feel the world around him slipping away…he had to get this out before he lost this losing battle.

"Son…p-please. T-Take Gohan, Vegeta w-will help you," Goku choked, reaching up with the last of his strength to caress Goten's tear streaked cheek. "Y-You'll be alright…you h-have each other. I-I'll be back someday, I p-promise you…"

"Dad, I-I'm sorry, it's my fault..." Goten cried, sobbing uncontrollably and reaching up to hold his father's hand against his cheek.

"N-No son…never think that. Don't blame…y-yourself. B-Be strong…" Goku forced through his lips. Each word was harder to utter than the last, as his body became heavier and heavier with fatigue.

Braeden sneered at Goten, speaking to him with horrible sarcasm and contempt as Goku looked on, struggling to see through failing eyes. "Well would you look at that…it seems I caught the wrong target, what a shame. No matter, I believe I like this even better! Your dear father Goku is a dead man already and I suspect your brother may not be far behind. My work here is done for now, and it was much quicker than I thought! I've another matter to attend to at present, you understand…so live, little Saiyan. See how well you sleep at night, knowing that your family died because you were powerless to stop it." Seeing the paralyzing anguish and confusion in Goten's eyes, he continued, answering the unspoken question. "No, I don't think I will kill you now…why would I do that when this is so much sweeter? Live with your guilt for as long as you have left, for each moment you survive now will be as if you are dying a living death."

Goku turned his head weakly back to Goten, whose eyes were wide with mind numbing terror and heart-wrenching sorrow. He forced out a weary head shake, trying to get Goten to see that it wasn't his fault, that Braeden was the one who had caused this, not him, but it was no use. Goten was frozen with fear and raw guilt.

Vaguely, Goku wondered about Braeden… so evil and bitter; surely he hadn't always been like this. What could have happened to this man to make him the way he was, so vengeful and full of hate? Maybe the living death he spoke of was known from experience. Perhaps he lived through it himself every day, letting his own hatred and grief eat away at him until there was nothing left but an evil shell…a violent avenger.

He could feel his breathing becoming shallower with each ragged breath as Braeden shot up into the sky, headed quickly away from them, could just barely see and hear Goten crying above him, begging and pleading for him to live, but that didn't make it any less heart-wrenching. Even in this state, it broke Goku's heart. Just when he felt he couldn't possibly hold on a second longer, Vegeta and Trunks came swooping in, touching down to the ground and rapidly sprinting toward them. Goku gazed through clouded eyes into the face of the Saiyan prince… his best friend.

Vegeta took one look at him and knew it was over, Goku could tell from the desolate look on his face. The Saiyan prince knelt down close to Goku, no doubt anticipating that he had something to say, knowing that all he could do was hear the words of the dying man. "Take care…of t-them. P-Please…my friend," Goku whispered, so low he was relieved that Vegeta could hear him at all.

"They will survive this. You have my word, Kakarot," Vegeta uttered roughly. Goku knew him well enough to know that that meant he was holding back emotion, yet at the same time he knew the Saiyan prince was opening himself too, just by giving that solemn promise. If there was anyone who could keep his family and the Earth safe, it was Vegeta. With all his heart, he knew that. Together they would all prevail, somehow.

And so, Son Goku shut his weary eyes knowing death was upon him, but he did not despair. He uttered his last breath with a smile on his face, features frozen into a peaceful mask of serenity.

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I hate myself right now…I really do. I'm actually crying…can you believe that? There is a reason for his death…please don't think I did this for nothing, it had to be done.

As always reviews are much appreciated =)


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

The silence and gloom was so thick in the air, even he couldn't help but notice it. Vegeta strode into the spacious front room of Capsule Corp., taking in the crushed and dejected faces of those gathered there. Gohan, having been replenished enough by their sensu beans to function, sat unmoving on the couch, lifeless eyes staring listlessly at the floor. Sitting not far from him on the nearest cushion was Goten, silent tears of grief still coursing down his cheeks. Trunks sat in the armchair closest to the couch, stealing anxious glances at both Gohan and Goten while looking heartbroken and guilty. No doubt each one of them was finding some way to blame what had happened to Kakarot on themselves, and it wasn't helping anything, damn it. They needed to hate that bastard Braeden, not themselves! What was the point of it all, spending valuable time on grief when they could be avenging his death? Their sorrow could wait for another day, as could his own. All he knew was that he was pissed, and he was going to feed off of that for all it was worth! There was no need to think about how broken Kakarot had been, lying on the ground and dying a brutal death...no need at all! He was going to have to do something now, or they would drown in their sorrow before they could even fight back.

After Vegeta had briefly informed them all of the events on planet Kanassa, Bulma and Videl had taken ChiChi into one of the back rooms to try to calm her down, so he was stuck dealing with the depressed teenagers and adults. _Oh good…my favorite, _he thought, cynical. Damn it, didn't anyone understand by now that he sucked at this crap?!

Trunks, finally noticing his presence, looked over at Vegeta with sorrowful, questioning eyes, as if he hoped his father had the answer to the questions that were eating away at him. _What do I do? How do I help them?_ he seemed to say, though the words did not escape the boy's lips. They didn't need to; Vegeta heard them all the same. This was ridiculous! He was the prince of all Saiyans; he would not sit here and cower with his tail between his legs while the asshole was still out there! What was he doing just standing idly by while he could be working to destroy that abomination?! While all of these people just festered in their own grief? They obviously needed someone to lead them, to keep them on their toes; that someone had to be him. Looking at the sheer trust in his son's eyes, he knew that was his only option. He wouldn't let him down, not again. He was just opening his mouth to speak when a soft voice beat him to it, breaking the silence.

"I'm sorry Goten…I caused this. It's my fault dad is dead," Gohan murmured, prying his eyes off of the floor to look at his brother, with visible effort.

Goten jerked his head over to Gohan, shocked and bewildered. "No it's not, that's just ridiculous. It's all my fault and you know it! If I…if I hadn't…"

"Don't Goten. Please, just don't…I should have called you guys in the first place. If I had, none of this would have ever happened. Once again I had to go and make a stupid, unnecessary mistake, and dad has to pay for it. It's Cell all over again…You think I'd know better by now," Gohan uttered, with self loathing. That had always been his problem; he had the power, he just didn't have the confidence a Saiyan warrior needed. The warriors on planet Vegeta would have eaten him alive for that, Vegeta mused grimly.

"But I'm the one who lost it and attacked him like that! I didn't even power up first, how stupid is that?! That makes me the biggest idiot in the world, I don't care what you say, it's all my fault, I should have stayed out of it…I really am useless…" Goten cried in despair.

Trunks jumped up and walked over to them. "Come on you guys, stop it! Who cares whose fault it is! If it's anyone's fault, it's Braeden's! Or mine…" he muttered darkly. Vegeta pierced Trunks with an incredulous glare…not him too! Ugh, this was getting annoying.

"What?! What the heck are you talking about Trunks, you weren't even there!" Goten exclaimed, swiping at the tear streaks on his face. "So your vision missed it, so what! You were too far to help, I was right there…And anyway, you just contradicted yourself, you said we shouldn't worry about whose fault it is!"

"Careful Goten, your head might explode from using so many big words at once! What's your IQ anyway, two?!" Trunks seethed ruthlessly.

"Oh get over yourself Trunks, do you really think you're so important that you can have that much effect on things!?"

"I'm suppose to be stopping these things Goten, that's why I got this power in the first place! What good is it if I still can't do a thing to…"

"Quiet! Enough already! All of you just shut the hell up!" Vegeta roared, thunderous. They could scream at each other to their heart's content when all of this was over, but not here! Not on his watch, they wouldn't! He was leaving absolutely no room for argument here! Gentleness was not going to work, especially since he was so bad at trying to use it. He was the prince of all Saiyans; they _would_ listen to him.

Apparently none of them were quite stupid enough to challenge the enraged Saiyan prince because everyone froze, falling silent and wide eyed, which was good for them because if they said a single word right now, he wasn't sure if he could control the rage boiling inside of him.

"What the hell is wrong with you little ingrates?! Where do you get off, arguing like sniffling toddlers when there is vengeance to be had?! Is this what Kakarot gave his life for, so you could all go to pieces and argue amongst yourself about what ifs and where to place blame?!" Goten flinched and bowed his head, avoiding Vegeta's piercing gaze while Trunks continued to look at his father, expression forlorn and tormented. Gohan shifted his eyes to meet Vegeta's, still dull and all but lifeless, but he seemed to be listening, all the same. Good; there would be no tolerating inattention, he would beat this into their thick skulls if he had to! Vegeta pushed on with ferocity, forcing himself not to let Trunk's evident torment distract him. He couldn't afford that. Not right now.

Vegeta pierced Gohan with a ferocious glare, trying to get the young man to come to his senses and challenge him. He didn't; his eyes kept that same dull, lusterless sheen. Fine then. Vegeta was in the mood to rip someone a new asshole anyway. "Pull yourself together! This is far from the worst you've endured, and yet you are going to let him beat you before the battle has really begun! Are you crazy? What happened to the determined little fool who never gave up for anything, not even in the face of certain death?! What happened to that irritatingly astute little annoyance who made me come to my senses when Trunks was screaming for my attention?! I didn't even see the truth of what my own son was trying to tell me until you forced me to! You! That man is in there, and so help me I will drag him out myself if I have to! Where is he, Gohan? You'd better find him now, or everything and everyone else you care for will be gone!"

Without waiting for a response, he turned to Goten, who tried to shrink away, but Vegeta lunged forward and grabbed his chin, forcing him to look up. "And you! Look at you, sitting there wallowing in self pity! What good is that doing anyone? Do you think your father wants you to sit here and sulk about things that cannot be changed!? You made a huge, stupid mistake, yes! But who here hasn't?! If you want to prove how valuable you are, if you really want to do Kakarot proud, then stand up and fight like a man! Grow up!" Vegeta released him and Goten stepped back, rubbing his chin and looking stunned, yet thoughtful. Well, it was better than nothing. In his experience, the little brat had always avoided thinking whenever possible.

Unable to avoid it any longer, he turned to Trunks, who merely stared straight back at him. Of course he did; he wasn't one to cower, not to his father or to anyone. Hopefully that trait would serve him well in the future. Right now the boy was still too innocent in the art of war and combat to properly utilize it, so he obviously needed a little push, which Vegeta was more than happy to provide it. "You should know better! Crion warned you, didn't he? Don't be a fool! You _cannot _change everything; it is meaningless and stupid to try. You'll only get yourself killed, and possibly go insane in the process! There was nothing you could have done! Nothing! I suggest you let that absorb into that thick skull of yours, because if it doesn't I'll beat it into you if I must, don't think I won't! I will not have you blaming yourself for things you cannot help, is that clear!?" Trunks' cerulean gaze seemed to become clearer at his father's words. Good, that must mean _something _he'd said had registered. The time for guilt was over now! The time for vengeance had begun. No one would dishonor any Saiyan like Kakarot had been if he had anything to say about it!

"Now come on, we have to figure out where that bastard went!" shouted Vegeta. To his surprise, Gohan was the first to get up off of the couch to approach him. The young man was still quite noticeably depressed, but his face was more animated than it had been before, his onyx colored eyes clear.

"Where do you suggest we start?" he murmured, still quiet and a bit subdued, but focused on the task. _Maybe I'm better at this than I thought._

"Hey, wait, I forgot! Can't we just use the Dragonballs to bring dad back!?" Goten exclaimed, excited.

Vegeta shook his head, already anticipating that question. "Not a good idea. If we used them now, Braeden would surely see and want them for himself, and that's the last thing we need."

"Yeah, you're right…we'd better not do that yet. We should defeat him first, then we can bring dad back," said Gohan, sounding as if that was the last thing he wanted to do. But, he was smart enough to know what a big mistake it would be to reveal the existence of the Dragonballs to someone as power hungry as Braeden. Vegeta should know; he himself was once that ruthless.

"Besides, you two need to learn to handle yourselves without your father here. He's not going to be around forever you know! He coddles you two entirely too much, always finds some way to get you out of a mess whether he's actually there in body or spirit. That has to stop! You need to learn to how to stand on your own two feet! _Especially_ you, boy!" he stated, pointing at Goten. Surprisingly enough, he didn't argue, just stared at the floor again, brooding. Teenagers…he'd never get use to them.

"Just in case, maybe we should…" started Gohan, but he abruptly trailed off, staring at something with a peculiar look on his face. Vegeta didn't understand why until he followed Gohan's gaze to the face of another young demi-Saiyan, the face of his young son. _Shit…_thought Vegeta, taking in the expression that was at once both blank and panicked. He was really starting to hate that look. It never meant anything good.

"Trunks? Hey, what's wrong with you?" Goten asked, alarmed. "Come on, this isn't funny!"

Gohan and Vegeta exchanged a grim glance, which didn't go unnoticed by Goten. "You don't think he's…oh crap," he finished, realizing the grim truth. Interesting…well, now was as good a time as any to develop a brain. The boy seemed to have finally discovered his, and Vegeta was glad for it. He was going to need it. Whatever was ahead now wasn't going to be a picnic, of that he was positive now. Every vision Trunks had foretold was of their imminent doom…_Naturally, it's a whole parade of death and destruction, _he thought with cynical humor.

Finally, after what seemed like centuries but was really only a few seconds, Trunks gasped, eyes becoming clear. Rapidly scanning each of their faces, he stopped at his father's in panic. "He knows about the Dragonballs! Dende…and Piccolo…I… we have to go!" he sputtered, turning around. Without another word Trunks dashed forward and flung open the window, disappearing through it in the very next second. With grim anticipation Vegeta sprang out the window after him, Gohan and Goten in his wake. Vegeta growled with frustration, clenching his fists at his sides. He should have realized Braeden would know about them. Tthey were objects of great desire in many solar systems. Once again, he'd been a step behind the son of a bitch! He hoped it wasn't too late to fix that.

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Seven yellow-orange orbs adorned with red hued stars sat in the sanctuary of the inner chamber at Kami's lookout, gleaming in the faint light of the evening sun. Yes…yes! They did exist! It was almost too good to be true; too much to believe. He'd heard talk of the seven magic Dragonballs which could grant your every wish, of course he had. There wasn't a thing he hadn't passed over in his research of the Saiyans and the planet called Earth. He just hadn't quite believed it until he'd set eyes on them himself. With these in his possession, he could hold ultimate power over those filthy monkeys for sure! All he had to do was make one single wish…

His eyes passed over the sleek surfaces of the Dragonballs, envisioning this world and the Saiyans in the palm of his hand. He was almost there….Their filthy race would pay for the disgrace they had ruthlessly brought upon he and the rest of his long dead family, parents and siblings alike! It made no difference what generation these Saiyans were; they were just as responsible as the ancestors who had committed the deed. They would know pain worse than any he had ever felt, of that he would make sure. He would torment them until they were stripped of everything they were, until there was absolutely nothing left but hopelessness and fear. Maybe then they would see, the ignorant barbarians! They were nothing but piles of filth that needed to be squashed and burned, and he was going to be the one to do it.

Braeden paused in his thinking and smirked in fond remembrance. Years and years ago he had decided to form this plan, which was and always would be the best thing he had ever done, for it had rid him of those stupid, weak emotions that had plagued him before. Now a blissful, angry numbness, a dark, malevolent flame lived and breathed inside of him, intoxicating… delightful. Oh, how it burned…

And so, Braeden's lips twisted up into a sinister grin as he strode back toward the entrance, seizing Dende to drag him along behind him. Immersed as he was in his thoughts of glorious vengeance, he didn't notice the young Namekian's mysterious smile.

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So, there we have it. Shorted than usual, but this is all that's required of this chapter, plus it ends on quite a mysterious note. Mwahahahahaha! (cough) Sorry…

Keep your eyes peeled for the next installment, and reviews are much appreciated!


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Trunks sped in a mad dash toward Kami's lookout, wind whipping at his lavender locks of hair. He hoped he wasn't too late; he couldn't be, not again! He couldn't bear for someone else to die when there was even a remote possibility that it could be stopped. As if another death looming on the horizon wasn't enough, Braeden had the Dragonballs too. The only thing he could hope for was that the Kanassan wouldn't know how to summon Shenron. Hopefully, Dende would keep his mouth shut about that.

Forcing even more speed into his flight, he pushed himself to his limits, pulling ahead of the others for a few seconds before Vegeta once again came up beside him. Trunks glanced over at his father, who wore a harsh, yet determined expression. Saying nothing, just gazing straight ahead with a Saiyan's fiery will burning in his eyes. That was one of the things he loved the most about Vegeta, his amazing determination and infallible confidence. Trunks hoped that one day, he could be like that too. He was going to have to try to be if he planned to meet this threat and live to tell the tale.

Well, the sky hadn't gone pitch black and thunder wasn't crashing in the background, so it was probably safe to say Shenron hadn't been summoned yet. Trunks had already known that, but it was nice to have it confirmed. His vision had shown the Dragonballs, but not the dragon being summoned. The person he might still be able to save was what he was worried about right now…

Finally, much to everyone's collective relief, Kami's lookout came into view, and sure enough there was Braeden, in plain sight outside. He was standing in exactly the same way he had been in the vision, arm outstretched as he prepared to shoot a deadly blast at the prone form on the ground. There was still time to change things! No one else was dying today, not if he could help it!

Trunks rocketed down toward the lookout as fast as his ki would carry him, pulling his arms back and forming a blue-white ball of energy in his hands. He caught a glimpse of a bewildered looking Vegeta, but there was no time to think of that now. Extending his arms, he brought his hands together, releasing the wave of energy to send it hurtling toward Braeden. "Buster Cannon!"

The massive beam of energy caught the Kanassan by surprise, hitting him just along the right side of his torso and knocking the Death Shot he'd been about to shoot way off in a different direction. Trunks skidded to a stop on the ground of the lookout, the others just a beat behind him. He vaguely heard Vegeta cursing in the background, but there was no time to worry about that now.

Trunks rushed over to the struggling form of Piccolo, who lay writhing on the ground. Beaten within an inch of his life and in obvious pain, but still, he was alive. That in itself was a miracle! Piccolo had died in his vision. He'd been able to change it…he'd actually, _finally_ made a difference!

"Piccolo!" Gohan screamed in anguish, rushing to the Namekian's side as Vegeta stood over them all, glowering at the wounded Kanassan, who had made his way over to Dende and was holding him in a death grip. Trying to save his hide by using Earth's guardian. That wasn't predictable or anything, Trunks mused with heavy sarcasm. _Psh…way to be original, Braden. _Nevertheless, it could mean bad news for them.

"The Dragonballs…he wants the Dragonballs," Piccolo croaked, lurching forward with what little remaining strength he had to grasp the front of Gohan's shirt. "Go! Take Dende and the Dragonballs, and leave me here! You have to get them back, now!"

"Nonsense, we're not leaving you! Just rest, okay? Save your strength," urged Gohan, pushing the Namekian back down.

"Yeah, come on Piccolo. Let us handle thing for a change, huh?" said Goten, flashing a smile that didn't reach his eyes. He was trying so hard, Trunks could tell, but that wasn't enough to mask how he was truly feeling. It was something Trunks had been going through lately too, especially since Goku's death; he was just better at hiding it. It was a horrible feeling that pierced you straight down to your soul, the feeling that you were worthless. He wanted to help his friend…maybe they could help each other, but right now wasn't the time. Goten had to understand, as he was beginning to, that everything that had gone wrong wasn't his fault.

"Hmm, so you survived…" Braeden drawled, looking Gohan over with pitch black eyes. "Well, no matter. That just means I'll get another chance to play with you."

Gohan clenched his fists and raised his voice in fury. "You won't get the chance to, you slime!" He started forward, but was stopped short when Braeden gripped Dende closer to him threateningly.

"Do not move another inch, or you will all greatly regret it! Never forget who and what I hold in my control!" seethed Braeden, tightening his grip on Dende's slender neck to emphasize his point. Rivers of deep crimson flowed steadily out of the wound in his side, though he made no attempt to stop it. Apparently, he was too preoccupied with other things to care at the moment. Even he wouldn't be conceited enough to think he could handle all of the Saiyans with his attention diverted.

For the first time, Trunks noticed that all seven Dragonballs were sitting right beside Braeden, who glanced at them with a longing, yet murderous expression. "Why didn't the dragon come when I called to it? This is some dirty plot of yours, is it not? Make this dragon come to me now, or the Namek dies!"

Vegeta snorted with contempt, and his lips turned up at the corners into a smirk. "Hmph! It's amazing how easy it is to prove you're a moron! Obviously you don't know much about the Dragonballs if you're even making a threat like that!" he uttered sardonically. Trunks chuckled right along with his father, agreeing in spite of everything they'd already seen from Braeden. After all, it was comforting to know that he at least didn't know everything there was to know about the mystical objects. Even Goten, who had been uncharacteristically solemn lately, couldn't help but chuckle a little. Gohan however, stayed tense as he crept back to hold his mentor in his arms, trembling with pent up rage.

"What the hell are you talking about, you insolent fools?! Explain immediately, or I mean it, I will kill this boy, creator of the Dragonballs or not!" Braeden screamed, agitated and obviously eager to make his wish. As if they were ever going to let _that _happen.

Trunks gathered his courage and stepped up beside his father, bringing himself closer to Braeden. "That's right stupid, you can't kill Dende! You know he's the creator of the Dragonballs, but obviously your limited brain power couldn't go beyond that. If he dies, they die right along with him. They would become completely powerless," answered Trunks, with a smug grin.

"What lie is this? Do you honestly believe me to be so foolish?! Even if that is the truth, that doesn't explain why Shenron did not come to me!" Braeden cried, almost sounding like a spoiled child who hadn't gotten what he wanted, right when he wanted it. It sounded like he coveted this wish really badly, but what true villain wouldn't? No doubt he'd use it as a way to help destroy them all.

But to be honest, Trunks also wondered why it hadn't come when summoned. Had he called the dragon correctly? Probably, since he knew its name. It didn't normally take much more than that, but in this case it hadn't worked out that way. Why was that? The fact that his vision had missed this frustrated the hell out of him, and to make matters increasingly confusing, Dende wore a slightly self-satisfied grin, despite the fact that his neck could be snapped like a twig at any second. That was very unusual for the Namekian. Earth's guardian was normally very humble, and slightly unsure of himself; the exact opposite of the way he was acting now. _Strange…_

_Ugh, damn it!_ Why didn't he ever see everything? No matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried, it was never quite enough! He'd stopped Piccolo's death, yes, but he'd still been unable to see something as simple as a Dragonball summoning! Trunks wished he were powerful enough to see it all, or at least close to it, like Crion. Why couldn't he see more of what was yet to come? Why couldn't he hear the thoughts of that scumbag Kanassan, or anyone, for that matter? He wished with all his heart that he could…even if it literally drove him crazy in the end, it would be worth it. If only he could put a stop to this conflict as quickly as possible. Trunks, realizing he had tuned out of the conversation for a few seconds, caught the end of his father's statement. Or, to be more accurate, his father's taunt.

"….putting on the pathetic little dramatics and do something instead of whining!" Vegeta was saying, commenting on the last childish comment of Braeden's. "Would you like to be introduced to your very own grave now? I'd be happy to dig it for you, if there's anything left to bury!"

"Yeah, let's do this! I'm ready for revenge!" Goten screamed, bloodlust coloring his tone. Wow, that was odd to hear. Goten was normally too easy going for that, but then again, the bastard had killed his father. Trunks would act the same way in his shoes.

Trunks opened his mouth, ready to pipe in, but stopped abruptly when he heard another voice.

_He'll never realize what I've done! Now he won't be able to make a wish, I've made sure of that, I know it!_ said an unknown voice, coming from out of nowhere.

The young demi-Saiyan barely suppressed a yelp, and immediately felt like jumping out of his skin. _What the hell was that? Who said that?_ he thought, freaked out. Before he had more time to think on it, he heard the same voice, or whatever it was, echoing in his head.

_He may be powerful, and smart, but there's no way he knows Namekian! _ the voice said. Uh-oh…was he losing it already? Damn it, he'd wanted to hang on to his sanity for awhile so he could at least live to see his high school graduation. Well, this fucking sucked!

_I'm glad Piccolo was able to give me enough time…I hope he'll be alright, _it said, once again, inside his head. Thoughts that weren't his, inside his head…of course! He was hearing Dende's thoughts! How he had no idea, but they were there, as clear as day. Sure enough, he focused his energy over to Vegeta, and immediately heard the rage swirling inside his father's head, to Goten, hearing the hidden, heart-wrenching guilt, over to Gohan, who was thinking he wanted nothing more than to get rid of Braeden so his daughter and everyone else would be safe…No _way! _He really was hearing what they were thinking! It was kind of cool, in a creepy sort of way, but it would get annoying after awhile. Hopefully Trunks could figure out how to turn this off again when he didn't need it.

_So then what's Dende talking, um…thinking, about?_ What had he done to stop the dragon from being summoned?

Suddenly, and rather abruptly, Braeden's face lost the apprehensive look and he smiled a horrific smile. "If you choose to fight me here, you will regret it! You have no idea of the power I truly possess! So what if I couldn't make my wish? I'll annihilate you anyway and use it afterward! Besides, as long as I have them you cannot wish your own comrades back to life! Once you all are dead, surely I can use certain…methods to get the secret of the summoning out of our little guardian here!" he seethed, making a complete turn around in behavior. That was awfully suspicious…Trunks focused on Braeden, hoping this shaky new power would be reliable, and willed his thoughts to be revealed to him. The moment he wished for it to happen, Braeden's thoughts flooded into his head.

_I had forgotten…but now that I know I will be able to perform this, nothing can go wrong! I may not have been able to make my wish, but I can annihilate them here and now if I have to. All I have to do is use my technique to produce four other copies of myself, all with equal power to mine. That would be enough to kill them and then some! This way I will even be able to experience all of their deaths at the same time! I had so wanted to find a way to kill them slowly, but perhaps this is a better way! If I can leave, I will, but if they attack, they will be dead sooner than planned…_

_Uh-oh…not good, not good._ Five of Braeden, and all at the same time! Shit, shit, he couldn't let this happen!

"Oh, you want to play like that huh? Well fine then, I'd be more than happy to grant that wish!" Vegeta shouted, just as Trunks knew, and dreaded, he would. He was such a hot-head; he'd jump at the chance to fight the Kanassan right this second. Trunks would have too only a few minutes ago, but not now. All they would do was get themselves killed if they fought Braeden now! There would be five of him, but only four of them, and it was always better to even out the numbers. At the very least, they needed another powerful person to back them up too. There had to be some other way! Gohan stood up, muscles tense, and came to stand beside Goten, ready to power up, as Goten prepared to do the same at a seconds notice. He had to do something…

"Wait, stop! You can't!" blurted Trunks, not able to think of anything else to say. All three Saiyans whipped their heads toward him, each wearing an incredulous expression.

"And just why the hell not?! He's here, he's outnumbered, what more do we need?!" Vegeta yelled, clearly annoyed. Trunks could tell that much even without his mind reading ability.

What the hell was he suppose to say to them to get them to stop now without revealing his power? That would be incredibly stupid. If that were to happen, Braeden really wouldn't let them leave. Alive, at least. Especially Trunks himself.

"We can't fight him. Not here, not now. I'll explain later, I promise! Please…just trust me," he murmured to his father, locking eyes with him and silently pleading for him to listen. It was hard for Vegeta to trust people even now, Trunks knew that. If he only ever trusted him this one time, he could live with that. If only the man would just listen to him now…

Vegeta's hardened gaze softened slightly as he gazed into Trunks' eyes, and even though he wasn't trying to, Trunks more or less felt what he was feeling, though he tried not to notice exactly what the prince was thinking. He didn't want to use his powers for anything other than staying alive. It kind of made him feel like he was stalking people…through their minds…

He knew Vegeta was angry, but he couldn't tell if that anger was directed at him or at someone or something else, and he wasn't going to invade Vegeta's mind further if he could help it. But, along with the anger he felt from his father was something that gave Trunks hope…it was hard to detect, but it was there. Trust. Vegeta did trust him. The realization almost brought tears to his eyes. _Get a grip Trunks…you already knew that deep down, you idiot. _Still, it was nice to be able to count on it for sure.

Trunks watched as Vegeta clenched his teeth; so tightly together, it looked like it hurt. Then, with one last, furious look at Braeden, ground out, "Fine. You'd better know what the hell you're talking about, son. I don't agree to back down for just anyone!"

Goten rapidly glanced back and forth from Vegeta to Trunks, confused and furious. "What do you mean, back down? I want to fight him now! Come on, let me at him! He killed dad, he needs to die now!"

"Goten please, not now! We have to be careful. We'll get our revenge, I swear, but we need a plan first," Trunks pleaded with his friend. "I'll explain when I can, trust me," he added in an undertone. The young Saiyan prince stepped forward and placed his hand on his best friend's shoulder, but Goten viciously shook it off.

"That's easy for you to say! So fucking easy! My father is dead, Trunks, dead, and it's all my fault! How could you ever understand!?" he screamed, tears burning in his eyes as he trembled with unchecked rage.

"If you remember Goten, my father blew himself up just to keep us all safe! I do know what it's like to lose one of the people you love the most, but that's not the point! Seriously, look at yourself! Nothing has changed at all! All you've been doing is whining and complaining, just like you always do, instead of using your brain for once! I thought you were finally going to be smart and use your head! Fighting him when we're not ready will only get us all killed, and then your dad's death will all be for nothing! Are you seriously that stupid!?" Trunks screamed, enraged now. He knew Goten was hurting, he knew he was pissed, but this was just plain ridiculous! He needed to stop whining and take this all in stride if he wanted to avenge Goku, not sit around throwing tantrums like a baby.

"How the hell do I know you're telling the truth? What if you're just waiting until my back is turned so you can take all of the glory!?" Goten exclaimed, shaking a fist in Trunks's direction.

"Why would I do that? I'm not brain dead you know! That would be a death sentence!" Trunks retorted angrily.

"Sounds good to me, maybe you should just die then!"

Braeden cleared his throat, flashing a small, amused smile. "Well, I'd love to stay and see how this turns out, but I really must get on with my plans. Listen to your little bastard, Vegeta. Surely you'd rather have a little more time to live your pathetic lives. I'll be taking the Dragonballs now if you don't mind," Braeden declared, in a tone that suggested he didn't care if they minded or not. Without waiting for a reply, he slung Dende roughly over his shoulder, directly over his back in order to use him as a shield. Grabbing a silken bag which was full of Dragonballs, he sped off into the sky. Pushing the conflict with Goten aside for the moment, Trunks focused on the Kanassan as he rapidly flew away, trying to hear what he was thinking, and sure enough, his power held true. Maybe he was actually getting the hang of this.

_Yes…the cowardly little prince is giving me just the opportunity I need to better prepare myself. I'd enjoy killing these swine either way, but I'd really rather drag it out. When I discover the secret of these Dragonballs, it will be even more enjoyable! Oh, how I've dreamed of this! They shall perish in the worst possible ways, oh yes…I'll find a way to incarcerate them, and then I'll incinerate their limbs one by one. I'll slaughter them slowly in front of all who remain until there is no one left…There are methods to keep them on the verge of death for so long, they'll be wishing for it…_

He couldn't listen anymore. Thoughts that disgusting needed to stay where they belonged; in the minds of the psychopaths who had them in the first place. Trunks swayed, feeling sick to his stomach as the impact of those words and the pure evil behind them hit him like a tidal wave, forcing him to grab his father's shoulder for support. Braeden's mind was so terrible, but it wasn't just the words he'd been thinking that were affecting Trunks so badly. He could literally feel the dark energy that had been emanating off of the Kanassan. It seeped into his own heart and mind as if it were a deadly plague, filling him with the deepest dread and hopelessness imaginable. Waves of nausea and dizziness hit him in crashing waves, and before he could do anything to stop it, the peaceful oblivion of darkness came forth to engulf him.

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Whew that was pretty intense, I'd say. Poor Trunks…it's not every day you have to put up with the pure evil of the minds of psychopaths…I imagine it would make anyone literally sick with how dreadful it is, don't you think? What will the Z fighters decide to do next?

Thanks for reading, and reviews are always appreciated!


	8. Chapter 8

_**Author's Note: **_Hey everyone, hope you've all been enjoying the story! Just thought I'd make a few comments before you go on to read the next chapter.

First of all, to shahi, since I couldn't reply to your review. Crion explained this already, and I'll say it again. Braeden does not have telepathic powers. A genetic abnormality caused the psychic power to skip over him. It's rare, but it can happen. However, he was born with extraordinary physical prowess instead.

Next, ChibiAlly raised a question, and brought something to my attention which needs to be cleared up. I should have made this more clear to all of you, but oh well. Braeden's technique, which splits him into four more exact copies, is especially extraordinary because it does not split his power among the different forms. Each copy of Braeden has exactly the same amount of power as the original one, which is why it wouldn't have been smart to fight him like that until they're ready.

Anyway, without further adieu, here's the next chapter to _Violent Avenger_! Enjoy!

**Chapter 8**

Head pounding, Trunks slowly rose out of the haze of unconsciousness, hearing far away voices echoing around him. Well, they sounded far away at least, but he didn't trust himself right now. Kami, he felt like he'd been beaten upside the head with a sledge hammer. What the hell was wrong with him…? Suddenly, he remembered what he'd been doing before collapsing, which did nothing to help his rising anxiety. Feeling slightly nauseous, he suppressed a groan, not wanting to open his eyes and go back to the real world just yet, but he knew he had no choice. His dad and the others had to know what was going on, what Braeden and Dende had been thinking. At this point, Trunks almost wished he were a little kid again. Things had been so simple then…. He'd wake up from a nightmare, crawl into his mother's bed, and she'd hold him and stroke his hair until he fell asleep, which always made it go away. Morning would come and all of those terrible feelings of fear would be forgotten…a fading dream.

Those times were passed, and there was nothing he could do about it. He was just going to have to suck it up, be a man, and take control of his own destiny. Now he knew he couldn't always rely on everyone else to make the nightmares go away. There was a point in everyone's life when they had to do it themselves.

Without a further thought, Trunks pried his eyelids open, blinking rapidly as the fading sunlight seared into his sensitive eyes. The day was almost over, but there was still enough light left to make his migraine even worse…fantastic. Someone gasped in surprise as he reached up to rub his eyes, and another person, off to his left, sighed with relief. Trunks dropped his hands and looked around, slightly disoriented. He was propped up against one of the walls from the main structure, several feet from where they had been during the confrontation with Braeden. They were still at Kami's lookout, and judging from the remaining sunlight, not much time had passed.

Finally, after scanning his surroundings, Trunks's eyes came to rest on the three figures crouching near him, all on different sides. Vegeta was kneeling in front of him, wearing a face that said he was perplexed, though he could also detect relief in his father's measured gaze. Off to his right was Goten, who stared into his face with wide, panicky black eyes and a rigid posture, giving him the whole deer caught in the headlights look. If this weren't such a grim occasion, he might have laughed at that. Next was Gohan who sat to his left, worry etched into the features of his face. They all stared at him with those mixed expressions, each reflecting his feelings in his own way; nevertheless, it touched Trunks's heart. It was nice to have people care about you.

"Are you alright?" asked Gohan, sounding every bit the concerned father. Well…he supposed Gohan _was _a father now, but it was still a little weird to think of him that way.

Trunks started to nod, winced, then changed his mind since the motion made his head feel like it was going to fall off. "I'm okay."

Vegeta narrowed his eyes, looking amused and concerned all at once. "Yeah, right."

Trunks smiled in spite of himself. Alright, so he wasn't exactly, _okay_, but that didn't matter. There was no time to lose. "It's nothing, I'll be fine," he said, and Vegeta nodded with what seemed like approval, giving him an affectionate punch on the shoulder. His heart swelled at the sight; he wanted his dad to be proud of him.

Goten, looking as if he might burst, finally couldn't take it anymore and started talking so fast, his words sounded jumbled. "Trunks, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it honest, you have to believe me! I was just so mad at you at the time, and I didn't think, you know me, I'm always such an airhead…"

"Goten, hey, slow down!" shouted Trunks, holding up a hand in order to halt his friend's onslaught of words. What had him so agitated? He looked so guilty; it was almost as if he believed he had caused him to fall into a dead faint. "What are you talking about?"

Goten glanced sheepishly at his feet, then seemed to realize what he was doing and looked straight up at Trunks. A year or so ago, he probably wouldn't have been able to do that…maybe Goten was starting to grow up a little after all.

"Well, I uh…you know when we were fighting before, I just didn't get what the heck your problem was, telling us to wait to fight Braeden and I said some things…things I didn't mean at all. I was just so angry I couldn't stand it! I don't want you to die Trunks, not ever! When I saw you drop to the ground like a ton of bricks…" Goten paused as emotion choked him, and he stopped to swipe at the tears that had escaped his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he seemed to force himself to go on. "You're my best friend…I don't wanna lose you too…"

Trunks slapped himself internally, and made a mental note to try to remember things like this, even when he was under a lot of pressure. In all of the other excitement, Trunks had forgotten all about their little spat. His friend looked and sounded so sad. It seemed as if Goten honestly thought he might have played a part in Trunks's little fainting episode. Ever since Goku's death, he just wasn't the same…Goten had always been the happy go lucky one, the optimist who could usually find something good in any situation. Trunks was more on the negative side; he was too much like his father not to be, so he and Goten balanced each other out perfectly. They had minor arguments sometimes, but they got over it. This time was no different, at least in Trunks' mind. They had been best friends for far too long to let a conflict such as this tear them apart.

"Come on, is that all that's bothering you? I know you didn't mean it, man. You never think before you speak, everybody knows that," he joked, looking at Goten and shooting him a lopsided grin. Gradually, the deep, misplaced frown on Goten's face faded and turned into a small smile.

"Besides, my little episode has nothing to do with anything you did. It was just that that guys mind is so…ugh. Sick," Trunks finished, giving a small, disgusted shudder.

"I thought you said you couldn't read minds, Trunks. Has that changed?" Gohan questioned, cocking his head in a quizzical way.

"Yeah…It just happened, right in the middle of Braeden talking. I remember I wanted to know what was going on so bad…I wished I could read minds like Crion can, and it just kind of happened." Trunks paused, an idea occurring to him. He couldn't read their minds right now, but that was only because he didn't want to. All he would have to do is truly focus his power on them, and he knew he would be able to hear what they were thinking. "I think the key is to want to do it. For example, right now I can't hear your thoughts, but that's only because I don't want to. If I focused enough, I could."

"Does this have something to do with the way you acted before when you told everyone not to fight Braeden? Because you can read minds?" asked Piccolo, startling Trunks and causing him to jerk his head rapidly toward the Namekian. _Ah…bad idea…_that only made his head swim with dizziness.

The Namekian had a habit of walking up out of nowhere and scaring the crap out of everyone, which is exactly what he'd just done. Trunks shook his head a couple of times to clear it, slowly, so he wouldn't just make the problem worse, and pushed the crushing pain in his head to the back of his mind as he answered Piccolo. "Yeah, that's how. You'll see in a minute. I heard what Dende did to the Dragonballs, too."

Piccolo nodded, as if he'd already known the answer before he'd even heard it. "I thought as much. Then you must have known what the Kanassan was thinking as well."

Wait a second…come to think of it, what was Piccolo doing up and around anyway? Last time Trunks had checked, he was lying half dead on the ground. Piccolo seemed to see the question on his face, for he answered his unspoken thoughts.

"Sensu beans. Those things never cease to come through for us when we need them," he murmured, crossing his arms over his chest. The Namekian scowled darkly. "I was able to give Dende enough time to make the modifications, but I still couldn't stop Braeden from getting to him. Blast it!"

"What the hell is this about the Dragonballs?" questioned Vegeta, confused and obviously not liking it. "Braeden too. Why couldn't we crush him right then? I want explanations, and I want them now."

Trunks nodded, expecting no less from his father, and launched into a lengthy explanation of all he had heard, starting with the revelation of Dende's modification of the Dragonballs, followed by the deadly clone technique of Braeden's and the gruesome things the demented Kanassan planned to do to them all if given the chance. Everyone listened intently, with no interruptions. They all understood the importance of this.

Finally, after Trunks felt he had adequately told everything there was to tell, he fell silent, anticipating the inevitable questions that were sure to follow. He didn't have long to wait; Vegeta made a low, rumbling sound of frustration deep in his throat.

"Are you sure that's the way that technique works? Could you have been mistaken?" he asked, sounding tense and skeptical. Trunks suspected Vegeta already knew the answer, but he'd say it anyway.

"No. He clearly thought about how the technique works. He was especially proud of it because the power of the clones would be exactly the same as the power he holds right now. This is just a guess, but I think there's a limit as to how many he can have. That's why it was just four," Trunks answered, sighing with fatigue and running his fingers through his hair. He was dead tired; too bad there wasn't time for sleep.

"You say he plans to use four clones, meaning there will be five of him all at once. Well then, we need someone else to take the fifth clone; no offense Namek, but you certainly did no good against him," Vegeta snorted, blunt as always.

Piccolo let out a low growl, but didn't argue. "It's true. I'm no use to you in battle against that dirty Kanassan. As much as I wish I could pound his face in, I'd just be getting in your way."

"The Earthlings would be even worse. Can't count on them to be of use in this fight. We're going to have to make sure they don't get in our way," said Vegeta, sounding determined. As callous as it may sound to some, Trunks knew he was right. Krillin, Tien, Yamcha, and Chiaotzu were good fighters in their own right; at least, when they weren't acting like complete morons. However, this guy was way out of their league.

"So who can we count on, if not any of them? Is there anyone who could measure up to Braeden? Even we will be hard pressed to beat him. How is someone weaker than we are supposed to do it?" Gohan questioned, looking a little desperate, obviously deep in thought. _Come on Trunks, think!_ There had to be something; maybe there would be a vision of some sort to tell him, but he couldn't afford to wait for one. They needed a solution right now.

Goten, apparently sensing the doom and gloom atmosphere, attempted to brighten the situation. "But there's good news too, right? He can't use the Dragonballs now!" Goten shouted, with enthusiasm that seemed a little forced. Well…at least he was trying.

Gohan set his chin in his hand, a troubled look on his face. "Yes that's true, but the question is, what is Braeden willing to do to Dende to discover how to use them?"

"He probably won't kill him, at least not yet. He'll want to try to force the secret to summoning Shenron out of him first. No doubt he thinks he cannot fail, so that should keep him busy at least long enough to come up with a plan. It has to," Vegeta stated logically, yet with a faint hint of desperation. It had to work…there was simply no other alternative for him. Losing was not an option, and Trunks had to agree. But, what should they do?

Before anyone could offer up any suggestions, the sound of a motor close by caused everyone to notice the small aircraft landing near them, the Capsule Corporation logo adorned on both sides of the vehicle. All five warriors watched as the top of the aircraft was popped open, and Bulma and Videl leaped outside and sprinted toward them.

Trunks stood up to greet them just as the others did, stumbling for a second before catching himself. His head was still killing him of course, and he was a bit lightheaded, but that was alright; he'd had worse. The two women stopped right in front of them, Gohan going to Videl immediately to embrace her. Bulma, hands on her hips, stalked over to Vegeta, looking especially angry. _Damn, she looks pissed…this ought to be interesting, _Trunks thought with snide amusement.

"Why the hell did you guys just take off out of nowhere, without even telling us? With that freak running around here on Earth, didn't you think that would get us just a tiny bit worried? Are you insane!?" Bulma yelled, furious.

Vegeta clenched his fists, and scowled at her. "You should know this by now! We have to take off at a second's notice if necessary to repel his attacks on us! Unless you want to die, of course. I don't know about you, but I want this world to be a peaceful enough place to raise our children on!" he screamed, agitated.

"Well, what happened? Why did you have to go so quickly?" she asked, calming down somewhat.

"I had a vision. There was no time to explain anything, I just took off and they followed. I was afraid Piccolo, and maybe even Dende would die if I wasn't quick about it," Trunks murmured, in a quiet but strong voice. "I had no choice; I don't want anyone else dying! I did want to stop Braeden from getting the Dragonballs too, but that didn't go well…," Trunks finished, slightly sulky, but in the very next second, he vowed to forget about pouting like a little kid. There was no time for pointless regret; they had to focus on the future now.

Bulma gave him a worried look. "Are you alright, sweetie? I know it must be rough on you…"

Trunks did his best to smile, to reassure her. It wasn't so bad...he was getting use to it. He really wished his head would stop pounding so much though, because it was making him feel sick, but he'd deal with it. Hopefully he could sleep it off later.

"I'm okay, mom. Don't worry about me. Right now we really have to figure something out."

After that, he could vaguely hear everyone explaining the situation to Bulma and Videl, but there really wasn't any need for him to pitch in; they knew everything as well as he did now. Closing his eyes, Trunks leaned his head back against the wall, wanting to rest, yet he knew he couldn't. Honestly, all he wanted to do right now was curl up in his nice, warm bed and sleep for days on end, but he couldn't do that yet. Not with so much left undone. There had to be some way to fight Braeden with equal numbers; there just had to be! Something was really bothering him; he felt like he knew the solution somewhere in his mind, yet try as he might it continued to elude him.

Too bad there weren't more Saiyans like themselves around. Trunks didn't want to sound arrogant, but that seemed like their best chance to win at this point. It was impossible, though. Maybe he could learn to clone himself as Braeden did, if that were even possible for someone of his kind. At any rate, even if it could be done, Trunks doubted there would be time to learn such a thing. _Damn it! _If only he were stronger…if only he could be two places at once.

The idea hit him so suddenly, it was as if a white-hot thunder bolt had struck him. _That's it…that's it! Of course! _Why hadn't he seen it sooner? Why hadn't anyone seen it sooner? It had been easy to forget, he supposed; he already was two places at once!

Trunks opened his eyes to see that everyone was in deep discussion, trying to work out various tactics for how to approach the situation, but there wasn't any need for that any more. He knew exactly what they should do.

"Mom?" he said to Bulma, in such an excited tone of voice, everyone else stopped what they were doing to stare.

"What is it, Trunks?" asked Bulma.

"Is that time machine you've been working on ready yet?"

As soon as it was out of his mouth, he knew they understood. Everyone froze, stunned into silence. Goten looked simply awed, while Gohan's face was slowly lighting up with a smile. Vegeta sat quietly for a moment, but in the next second, his lips turned up into a sly grin. Bulma however, still seemed unclear as to what he was suggesting.

"Yeah, I just put the finishing touches on it last week. Why, what does that have to do with anything?"

Trunks grinned, feeling ridiculously optimistic for the first time in a long time.

"It's simple. We go get the other me."

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*huge smile* Yup, I did dare to end it there. Mwahahahahahaha!

I'm sure you all know what this means…time for someone to pay a visit to the future! Too bad you all have to wait until the next chapter to see what happens! XD

Thanks for reading, and as always, reviews are much appreciated!


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Gohan's smile was so wide, Trunk thought it might split his face in two. "Yes, of course! Trunks would help us! Besides, it will be great to get together again, even if it is because we have to fight. We haven't seen him in such a long time. Well…sort of," Gohan joked, tossing a wry glance Trunks's way with laughter dancing in his eyes. The deep sadness that had penetrated the young man since Goku's death seemed to lessen somewhat, however temporary that might be. Good, he'd be able to fight better that way.

Gohan smiled softly, eyes shining with renewed hope. "If we're all together, I know we can do this. For my dad, my family, and for the Earth."

Videl, who was now standing beside Gohan, took his hand in hers. "For everyone. I don't want my daughter growing up in a war zone," she stated in mock irritation. Gohan smiled back at her, playing along, but it was obvious that the two young parents did take it seriously, even though they tried to make light of it.

Vegeta smirked and chuckled lightly. "Well at the very least, this should prove interesting. We'll have to start calling you both by numbers," he mused with heavy sarcasm, improving everyone's mood even more. The sudden optimism in the air was infectious, and suddenly every face was adorned with a grin, even Piccolo's. Trunks couldn't have smiled any wider, even if he'd tried. Maybe he was being a bit too confident about this, but he was going to enjoy this feeling for as long as he could. He was tired of feeling overwhelmed and pessimistic all the time.

"Five super Saiyans! I'd love to see him stand up to that!" Trunks yelled, feeling especially confident.

"Right you are, boy!" Vegeta replied, and they laughed together with easy companionship. They had their differences sometimes, but right now they were on the same wavelength, and Trunks had to admit, he loved the feeling of being so close to his father. That would never get old to him.

"My Trunks is so cleaver!" Bulma cooed, springing forward to crush Trunks in a hug.

"It wasn't that hard to figure out mom, really," Trunks reasoned, trying to wriggle out of the massive bear hug she had him in without hurting her. "Mom, come on you're smothering me." Truthfully, though he hated to admit it even to himself, just the small rocking motion she was making bothered his head, which still felt as if it might explode at any second. Man, he wanted to sleep…

"No one else thought of it, that's all I know," Bulma retorted, releasing him with one last tousle of his hair. Why the hell did she always do that anyway? He knew she meant well, but it annoyed him. His hair was already a shade of purple that screamed to be noticed. He didn't need it sticking up in all directions too, unless he was in Super Saiyan form of course. Trunks reached up and smoothed down his unruly locks, much to the amusement of Goten, who shamelessly laughed at him.

"What are you laughing at Goten? Your hair always sticks up in the air like some ridiculous monument. That only works right while you're Super Saiyan," sneered Trunks playfully.

"What? It looks good on me in all forms," he answered, with a grin of his own.

Piccolo stalked forward, seeming at once amused and disgruntled. "Not that this isn't mildly entertaining, but we're getting off track here. The sooner someone goes to the future and gets back, the better."

Trunks sighed, but fought to keep his expression neutral. Piccolo was right. It was too bad though. They hadn't had any real fun, or joking around in what seemed like forever, but oh well. There would be time for that after all of this was over. They couldn't be distracted from their task even for a second or it might cost them, no matter how confident they were of victory.

"Yes, yes we know. What's the hurry? We'll annihilate this freak!" Vegeta uttered, a gleam of arrogance evident in his onyx black eyes.

"All the same, I don't think we should stand here twiddling our thumbs. Like Piccolo said, the sooner the better," responded Gohan, becoming more serious instantaneously. Trunks almost expected him to add, "Let's get this over with," he sounded so anxious to fight and be done with it, and Trunks couldn't help but wonder why. That was just the way Gohan was, he supposed. Uptight when it came to fighting, and way too restrained. It annoyed Vegeta to no end, and Trunks tended to agree. Though he did understand Gohan's restraint to a point, the man seriously needed to get over it. For his own good as well as everyone else's.

"So who's going?" asked Bulma, shifting her feet. "It's a two seater, so it'll have to be limited, but the machine is more than ready to make the jump."

Without hesitation, Trunks gazed unswervingly at his mother. He was going, and that was final. His mother could be scary as hell when she wanted to be, but no way was he about to be swayed when it came to something so important. It seemed kind of fitting that he be the one to do it, and besides, Vegeta and Gohan should stay to monitor things. They were far more experienced fighters, so they'd know what to expect better than he and Goten would.

"I'll go," he announced, pointedly ignoring Bulma's instant hostility. "I won't be going alone, Goten can come with me. Are you game?" he asked, turning to his friend, who grinned mischievously.

"Well, duh Trunks, I'm not missing out on this. I wanna see if the other you is anything like you." He laughed, but sobered a little soon after. "If anyone can help us avenge my dad and save the Earth, it has to be this guy. We've heard great things about him all our lives."

Trunk was still a bit taken aback by how Goten had grown in such a short time, but he was glad. To be honest, Trunks couldn't help but worry about him sometimes because of his natural innocence and naivety. But, some of that seemed to be fading from his friend, which could only turn out well in the long run. He hated that it had to be this way for it to happen, but at least something good would come of this mess.

"Trunks, how many times do I have to tell you…" Bulma began, but she was interrupted by Vegeta, who gave Trunks an approving look filled with respect. His heart soared as his father gazed at him with pride. The Saiyan prince seemed to like the new leadership he was showing, or so Trunks assumed. He knew he no longer needed Vegeta's approval because he would have gone anyway, but it still felt nice to have him on his side.

"I like it. All right boys, the task is yours. I obviously can't go, because my experience in battle is far superior to anyone else's. I need to be here in case all hell breaks loose while you're gone. This boy could actually be useful if he set his mind to it, so he stays too. He's certainly no stranger to major conflict," Vegeta stated bluntly, pointing to Gohan, who nodded knowingly. He pierced Vegeta with a stare that held no uncertainty.

"I may not like fighting much, but I'm going to give this my all. I swear it. I will not lose anyone else I love," Gohan asserted, a purely Saiyan intensity, not often displayed be him, reflected in his eyes. Vegeta raised an eyebrow in surprised approval.

"Good. Finally, it seems some sense has sunk into that abnormal brain of yours," he drawled. Gohan shrugged, and cracked a smile.

"Maybe I've finally realized what it means to hold this power I have. I won't fail it again. Too bad I was a little too late," he proclaimed, a slight bitter note detectable in his voice.

Bulma cleared her throat and stamped her foot, calling attention back to her. She glared at them all and growled in frustration. "Don't I have a say in this?"

Trunks looked steadily back at her, knowing he was probably going to pay for this later on but oddly enough, he didn't care. He found he had no problem saying these words without even batting an eyelash, and so he locked eyes with his mother and concentrated fully on her. "No offense mom, but no, you don't. We're going. Come on, don't deny it! You know it's the best way."

His mother was just lying to herself because she didn't want her son so far away from her, where she couldn't reach him. She was scared to death that something would go wrong, and that she'd never see him again. She knew that she could keep Bulla safe as long as she held her in her arms, but if Trunks was out of her reach, she felt as if she just might go insane with…

_Wait, what the hell? _Trunks wasn't that good at reading into people, that was for sure. Tearing his eyes away from his mother's, he watched as she staggered back, looking dazed. _Ah, damn it!_ he thought, realizing what he'd done. But how could that be? Crion could lock eyes with and mesmerize people because he was so incredibly powerful, but Trunks wasn't anything near that level. He couldn't be…so how was he doing that without meaning to? He wished he could puzzle it out, but extreme problem solving was getting harder. Was it just him, or did his migraine seem even worse now, if that was at all possible? Maybe his power would always do that to him. There had to be some drawback, and this seemed to be it.

Trunks blinked rapidly and shook his head, which only served to send needle-like jabs of pain piercing through his skull. Dropping his head into his hands, he massaged his temples, then forced himself to look up again. Vegeta was looking at him as if he'd grown an extra head, while Gohan stroked his chin in a gesture that reminded him of a psychiatrist. It kind of felt like he was being analyzed, and he didn't like it one little bit.

"Did you just do what I think you did?" questioned Vegeta, looking flabbergasted, and even slightly awed.

"I-I didn't mean to! It just sort of uh, happened," Trunks sputtered. It sounded weak even to him, but it was the truth. He really didn't have any explanation for it.

"Seems like your power is growing rapidly if you can involuntarily do it already," Gohan murmured, gazing at Trunks in an analytical way. His eyes were bright with wonder at this mysterious new development. Gohan really _was _a book worm…he always wanted to study anything even remotely unusual. Unfortunately, Trunks now fit that category. He had to suppress a groan just thinking about it.

"Wow, cool! I wish I could do that," Goten shouted, looking and sounding amazed. _No you don't, Goten. No you don't…_

It was bad enough that he had to deal with this and figure it out himself; he didn't need everyone else staring at him as if he were some amazing new lab experiment.

"Did you just read my thoughts?" Bulma asked, amazed, yet a little horrified. "Creepy, but kind of cool too. Oh, this is perfect! I could study your brain waves so we'll know how it works!" she finished, reverting to mad scientist mode. Gohan was right there with her, and just as excited as she was.

"We have to get rid Braeden first, but after this is all over, we would have plenty of time to do that! It wouldn't bother Trunks of course, just some basic study," Gohan explained, moving closer to Bulma. "We could connect him to a machine that follows the pattern of his brain waves."

Trunks stood paralyzed with disbelief, shaking with anger. Kami, the nerve of those two! They were always looking for new knowledge, which was fine under normal circumstances, but they had a crisis on their hands right now! They could all die at any given second, and all they were worried about was studying him like some poor unfortunate lab rat?

"Great idea, Gohan! We'll make great discoveries over this, especially if we…"

_That's it! I can't take this! _

"Shut up!" Trunks screamed, recoiling a little when he realized he hadn't been the only one to say it. Vegeta had blown up and shouted at the exact same moment Trunks had.

"Are you insane!? No son of mine is going to be your freakish little lab experiment, do you understand me!? I never allowed you to do that to me. No one is doing it to him!" Vegeta raged, glaring daggers at both his wife and the eldest demi-Saiyan.

"There were other Saiyans to study, so I didn't have to examine you! All I had to do was go to one of the others," argued Bulma, but much of her enthusiasm seemed to be gone. She'd probably just now realized how out of line she'd gotten, but she hated admitting when she was wrong. Well then, he'd just have to force it out of her! He'd make it so she understood completely!

"What if I don't want to become your science project mom, did you consider that? Do you think I like having to deal with all of this? I took this power because I had no choice, not because I wanted it! Now here I am, stuck trying to figure out what the hell I'm doing, because I have no fucking clue! It's not every day you have to sort out someone else's thoughts from your own! It's not a happy event when you get stuck in the sick mind of a revenge bound psychopath, now is it?! This is hard enough for me without having to dodge scalpels and needles from my own mother and my friend!" Trunks rambled, vision blurred with tears and unbound rage. He knew he shouldn't let it get to him this much but he just couldn't take it anymore. The terrible, pointless destruction on Kanassa, the pressure of holding the power of the future in his hands, Goku's death, Dende's kidnapping, mind reading powers, those horrible thoughts inside Braeden's head, his own mother using him for experiments…it was too much. It was all too much. _I can't do this right now…I can't…_

"Honey…" Bulma began, but he cut her off. He couldn't listen anymore. Not like this. Not to anyone.

"Stop! I can't do this right now, I just can't," he choked. Trunks gazed through hazy eyes at the stricken face of his mother, but he couldn't bring himself to feel sorry for her. He was too busy feeling sorry for himself. Even as he realized how selfish it sounded, he knew it was true. Without another word or a single look at anyone, he turned and took off running toward the edge of the lookout, ascending into the sky and propelling himself forward as fast as his ki would carry him. How had this happened in such a short time? He'd been so positive about all of this a few minutes ago. He'd actually started to think that maybe things would be alright, but for him, they never would be. No matter what he did he'd always be some freak of nature…someone's creepy science experiment. Everything had come crashing down on top of him all at once, and he had no idea what to do about it. Maybe this burden really was too much for him to carry. It kept getting harder and harder to breathe.

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Vegeta shook his head with worry for the boy as he watched Trunks turn and run, feeling the deepest disgust with that foolish woman and Kakarot's oldest brat. _He finally snapped. It's too much for him, but I can't blame him. I never liked being the butt of nasty experiments either, damn that Frieza to HFIL. _Back in those dark days, Vegeta had been the tyrant's number one favorite toy. Oh, it pissed him off just thinking about it!

With all of the stress the boy had piled on top of him, he was overwhelmed. Vegeta had been expecting this sooner or later, but it didn't have to happen this way. He'd thought Gohan and Bulma would be smart enough to know not to do something so blatantly idiotic, but he'd apparently overestimated them. Their capacity for stupidity was amazingly high for people who were supposed to be geniuses.

"Trunks! Hey, wait!" Goten called, launching himself into the air after his friend. Vegeta contemplated doing the same. If he were being honest with himself, he'd have to admit, he really wanted to. However, perhaps this was better left to Goten. He trusted the boy with that task, at least. Surprisingly enough, he usually knew just how to talk to Trunks. This was better left to him for now.

They weren't going to be doing anything else tonight, anyway. The future could wait a little longer. In the meantime, Vegeta was left to tear these imbeciles new and improved assholes for being such insensitive morons. Vegeta laughed to himself at that thought. Imagine that, he of all people calling someone insensitive. Funniest damn thing he'd ever heard!

Piccolo sighed and shook his head in disgust. "That was really stupid of you," he muttered, exasperated. _Well how about that, two rarities within two minutes_. He actually agreed with the Namek for once.

Vegeta looked to the stricken faces of both his wife and Gohan, feeling a sudden pang of pity, but he ignored it. They'd brought this upon themselves, especially for causing his son such pain. Vegeta narrowed his eyes in anger and contempt. "Now you've done it. What the hell were you thinking? Did you honestly think he'd take kindly to that?"

"I wasn't thinking. I'm so sorry…" Gohan uttered, looking miserable.

"Oh, what have I done? That was so insensitive of me, I didn't think about how he might feel about it…" Bulma murmured, sounding as miserable as Gohan looked.

Videl placed her hands on her hips and glared at them both. "You two should be ashamed of yourselves!" Both Gohan and Bulma hung their heads, but not before he saw the tears in his woman's eyes. For a split second, he had the absurd urge to order her to stop crying, but he stopped himself. _Hmph. She brought it upon herself…_

"Think we should go after him?" asked Piccolo, looking to Vegeta for an answer. Vegeta shook his head.

"No, leave it for now. He needs time to get his head together. Besides, we aren't doing anything else tonight. I can't believe I'm saying this, but we can count on Goten."

"Surprisingly, I actually agree with you for once, Vegeta," said Piccolo, who smiled an ironic smile. Vegeta smirked right back, actually having something that resembled fun with the Namekian. Now _that _was odd.

"Likewise, Namek. Never thought I'd see the day." He gave a short laugh but then his smile faded a little, expression hardening ever so slightly. "Trunks needs to find his own way to deal with this. If Goten can help, then so be it. But, I can't do everything for him, he's not a child." _I can't do everything for him_…he repeated to himself.

He just wished the desire to do so would go away and leave him the hell alone. It would do no one any good, least of all Trunks. He'd give the boy support, but the rest was up to him. His son had a good head on his shoulders; he'd figure it out. Vegeta truly did have faith in him, but in the end, that didn't mean much. It was Trunks's own resolve that would get him through this. Nothing Vegeta could say would have the same affect as raw determination. Somewhere deep inside, the Saiyan prince knew his son had what it took to survive. Trunks just needed to dig deep and find it for himself.

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Hey, sorry I'm late with this but I've been busy all weekend. It is spring break after all :D. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and reviews are always appreciated!


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Dodge, weave, dodge, weave…Trunks went on in that same repetitive pattern, barely bothering to so much as go around the vast clumps of trees that flew past his field of vision. He needed to think, but somehow whenever he tried, his thoughts clumped up into, sloppy, unreadable drabble that even he himself could not make sense of. And so he went on this way, with no idea of where he was headed, just feeling the urgent need to get away from everything and everyone else.

A strong gust of wind blew through trees and the rest of the surrounding vegetation, making Trunks shiver in the thin sweatshirt jacket he wore. Eyes watering from the cold and the remnants of tears, he swerved to avoid a gigantic tree branch, which had startled him once again out of his hazy stupor. He was going to kill himself at this rate, but what difference did it make if it happened now, or later? He probably didn't have long until he ended up in an insane asylum anyway. Maybe it would be easier on him if he went this way. It would be rather fitting in a way to die in this lonely forest, with nothing to keep him company except for the ancient, hulking trees and the wind whistling through the leaves. Perhaps a bird, or a few stray squirrels would take pity on him and watch from the shadows, shaking their heads in sorrow, if they were even capable of such a thing. It didn't matter where he died. Everywhere he went, he'd still be alone. The Kanassans held this power naturally. He was just an oddity. A being with a power he should never have had. The choice had been his, yet in a strange sort of way, it had not been his at all.

Trunks wasn't sure of anything anymore. He wasn't even sure why he was thinking this way. It scared him a little to acknowledge the thoughts he was having, they were so suicidal, yet another part of him stayed detached from the scene, as if this poor wandering youth wasn't really him at all. It was a strange feeling; almost impossible to describe, though he would never wish to.

He tried to remember what it meant to have hope, what it meant to feel important, happy, and free. He had a purpose in this world. Didn't he? There must be a reason he was being put through this hell. There must be a way for him to pull himself out of this self-induced depression, for him to live on in spite of it all. Trunks thought of the family and friends he loved so much, and knew they were his motivation. They were the reason he had wanted to turn himself into the very thing he was beginning to fear.

Trunks stopped and sank onto the nearest tree branch, pulling his knees up and hugging them to his stomach. He wanted Bulla to grow up to be strong, and his mother to laugh as she always had, concocting some crazy invention or another. He wanted his dad to keep right on with his determined training, throwing around fiery scowls that sometimes hid his smiles. He wanted everyone to be happy again, even if it meant he never could be. So then why couldn't he swallow his fears and stand up to fight? Why was he sitting here, cowering in a tree in the middle of a dense forest, festering in his own terror and doubt? Why couldn't he move? Why couldn't he breathe? He didn't know the answers. Maybe he never would.

Trunks started as he felt something drop down onto the branch beside him, then stared in shock at who he saw. There was Goten from out of nowhere, sitting beside him as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Staring worriedly into Trunks's face, he spoke in a low tone, as if to a frightened animal.

"Hey, there you are. I've been looking everywhere for you. You're fast, you know. I lost you a few times," murmured Goten, uncharacteristically quiet and gentle.

"Why are you here? Why did you follow me?" Trunks heard himself ask. His voice sounded odd even to him; hoarse and tinged with sadness.

Goten smiled, and chuckled. "You were obviously upset, why wouldn't I follow you, stupid? Someone has to keep you out of trouble, right?" he said, still being gentle, yet his tone was joking. Not that it mattered much. Trunks wasn't in the mood for jokes. He appreciated his friend's effort, but he doubted anything like that would help him at this point.

Trunks knew Goten was waiting for some kind of response, but he said nothing, fearing that if he did, he wouldn't stop until he'd blurted out everything there was to say. He longed for someone to talk to and this was his chance, yet at the same time, something held him back. He didn't want to burden others with his problems any more than he already had.

Goten sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, which Trunks had come to recognize as a nervous gesture.

"I know I'm, uh… not very good at this, but I'm gonna try. Listen, I know it has to be hard living with all of this shit the way you do. It's a lot all at once. Visions, deaths, creepy, confusing mind reading. But you know, you don't have to go through it alone. We're all here for you, even if we can't share that so called gift you have. I just want you to know that if you want to talk…I'm always here. I'll listen," Goten earnestly told him, sounding nervous and a little awkward, but it was obvious that his whole heart was in what he was saying. That was the great thing about Goten. When he said something to you on a serious level, he meant it; you could count on that. Goten was just a naturally honest person, the kind of guy you go to just to talk to, because you could count on him to be a true friend. Before Trunks knew it, he was spilling everything, unable to keep the onslaught of words back any longer.

"I don't know what's wrong with me, Goten. I thought I was stronger than this! I really thought I could handle anything that came my way because of this power, but instead I feel like it's taking me over, making me afraid of myself, of the future, of everything! What if it really does take me over? What if I become one of those crazy people you see walking down the street, talking to themselves and trapped in their own personal hell? I don't want to be some mad scientist's little lab experiment, but most of all, I don't want to be in the position where I can't decide for myself. I'm scared Goten. I…"

Goten cut him off, placing his hands on both of Trunks's shoulders to stop the jumbled words from tumbling out of his mouth. "Slow down man. It's okay, slow down. You're going to give yourself a heart attack. Just breathe, okay? You're scaring me, calm down," Goten urged, sounding a little panicky, then Trunks realized why. His breath was coming so hard and so fast, he was practically hyperventilating.

Trunks struggled to slow his breathing even as he gasped for air; Goten's steadying hand on his shoulder. Gradually, and with a lot of effort, it became easier to draw air in through his lungs, and he could breathe again. In a manner of speaking…he still felt as if he were suffocating, in his heart.

Goten sighed with relief, slumped over in what seemed like exhaustion, and said, "I think I just lost ten years of my life." Trunks smiled weakly, but it was something, and Goten seemed happy for it.

"Hey there you go, I got a smile," Goten joked, smiling himself. He scooted even closer to Trunks and slipped an arm around his shoulders, most likely seeing how badly he was shaking and wishing to offer whatever comfort he could.

"I know you're scared. I'd be worried about you if you weren't, but you're gonna be alright, I honestly believe that. You're over thinking everything and worrying about things way too much. You've been okay so far, am I right? You're doing just fine with your new powers. You can handle them just as you have been, only this time, talk to us. Let us help you Trunks, and maybe the burden won't be so hard to carry. Even if all we can do is listen, it has to make a difference. As long as we stand by you, you'll never be alone."

Trunks's eyes filled with tears as he listened, a shred of hope creeping into his heart. Was that all there was to it? Could it be so simple? He didn't know, but he had to try. He had nothing to lose, and so much to gain if it worked. Confide in people, talk to people; such a simple concept, yet it seemed too good to be true. He was his father's son after all, so he wasn't very surprised that something so simple had escaped his notice. The truth was, he did feel better after getting all of that off of his chest. Perhaps if he just talked all of his fears out, the burden would be easier for him to carry. That wouldn't eliminate his problems completely, but maybe then…maybe he could live with them.

Taking a shaky breath, Trunks straightened up and sat upright, turning to face Goten in an effort to maintain whatever dignity he had left. "I'm going to start annoying you eventually with all of it. You sure you aren't going to go out of your mind right along with me?" he asked, completely serious. Not too long ago, that was something he would have said in a joking manner, but not now.

Goten threw back his head and laughed. "Yeah, right. You're not getting rid of me that easily," his friend replied, an amused twinkle in his eye, but Trunks could tell he meant what he said. Somehow, in spite of everything that was going wrong in his life, it comforted him to know that.

"Goten I...I don't know what to say. I know I don't always show it very well, but sometimes I don't know what I'd do without you. I mean it, thank you," Trunks choked, tearing up again. Geez, he must be half out of his mind already if he was crying every five seconds. That was starting to annoy him, but he couldn't seem to stop.

"There's nothing to thank me for. I'm your best friend, it's my job. If we can't count on each other, who can we count on?" Goten murmured, but Trunks couldn't find the strength to reply. He was trying to keep from blubbering like a baby, but he knew he would just burst into tears again if he said a word. Goten looked over to Trunks, then respectfully turned his head away, as if he understood. Maybe he did. Trunks didn't know, nor did he particularly care. Now that the hopelessness was slowly fading away, exhaustion was leaping right in to take its place. Trunks would have curled up and gone to sleep right there in that tree if Goten hadn't been there, and perhaps he would have anyway if his friend hadn't taken action right then.

"Come on, let's go home. You look totally wiped. You'll feel better after you sleep," Goten stated, nodding as if to confirm his own words.

Trunks mumbled something that might have qualified as an answer, then stood up next to Goten on a pair of wobbly legs. Shaking with cold and exhaustion, he flew out of the tree and worked his way through the canopy of leaves into more open sky, Goten right beside him. Trunks was shaking so violently, he was surprised he was staying up in the air without any help. How long had it been since he'd actually slept? A couple of days, at least. That, along with the migraine still pounding in his ear drums was a lethal combination. No wonder he could hardly hold his eyelids open. The frigid wind blowing against his face did help to perk him up a little, thankfully.

While Trunks had been trapped in his own dark thoughts, darkness had descended on the world as well; the sky was the deepest shade of black, blanketed with billions of beautiful stars that shined like priceless gems. Once he'd thought they'd never be the same to him on Earth after seeing them in space, but they were still magnificent no matter where he gazed at them. Even in his half-lucid state of mind, they didn't cease to amaze him. They burned as brightly as they could for every second of their existence; from the moment they were formed, to the end when they blazed their last. Brilliant and ever lasting, they strove to make their mark for as long as they were alive, even though they would one day collapse into themselves and cease to exist.

_I should be like that,_ Trunks thought to himself, sighing wistfully. He should be constant and vigilant as they were. His family, his friends, the Earth…they all deserved nothing less from him. Shaking his head slowly, the young prince blinked in bewilderment, an idea creeping its way into his slightly clouded mind.

There was no reason why he couldn't be that way. To be vigilant and ever moving, determined and unrelenting. It seemed so tough, but was it really? He knew people who did the very same every day, never giving up no matter what they were up against. He'd felt so alone. In a way, he still did, but though the situations may be different, he was far from the first person to suffer from hardship. He had people who loved him to stand with him when things got rough, which was more than many could say. Once he put it that way, it didn't seem so complicated anymore. Maybe he would one day collapse into himself and die, just as the stars themselves, but should that possibility stop him from living? It couldn't…it wouldn't.

_I should be like that…I will be like that. _He'd be a star, steadfast and unrelenting, ceaselessly brilliant. Trunks was still afraid of what the future had in store for him, but he couldn't let that stop him anymore. His best friend Goten had helped him see that, along with the aid of the luminescent stars.

The rest of the journey back to Capsule Corp. was hazy and dim, plunging Trunks into a strange state of semi-awareness. Trunks felt himself sway as he and Goten descended to the door of the house, Goten reaching out to grab his arm in an attempt to steady him. Vaguely, he registered the opening door and Goten's guiding hand as his friend literally half-dragged him up the stairs. Trunks didn't understand this. He'd been able to think pretty damn clearly not too long ago, yet now he couldn't seem to think at all.

Giving up completely on even the remote idea of puzzling out why that was, Trunks shuffled his feet down the hallway, Goten still guiding him. As they entered the doorway, Trunks sighed with relief at the sight of the familiar comfort of his room, almost crying with joy when he saw the king-sized bed pressed against the wall. Dragging his heavy feet over to the bed, he collapsed on top of it, clothes and all. Before his head hit the pillow, he was fast asleep.

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The bright morning sunlight filtered in through the open window, hitting Trunk's face in a flash that he had no hope of sleeping through. Scrunching up his face in discomfort, he opened his eyes into slits, squinting through the uncomfortably bright light. He sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, and glanced over at the clock. Kami, it was eleven o'clock! There was still so much to accomplish, yet he'd slept that long? He was surprised his father hadn't dragged him out of bed by now, but he was grateful. Now that he'd actually gotten a good night's sleep, he felt much better than he had last night. _My headache is mostly gone too,_ Trunks realized with a smile. It was just a dull throb now, and that was easy to ignore. He was well rested; and feeling much better about the future now that his brain wasn't clouded with exhaustion. _I am constant, I am determined, _Trunks chanted to himself. _I am a star. _ He felt a little ridiculous saying it even to himself, but it was a promise he'd made to himself, and he was going to keep it. It was a good thing to strive for, no matter how corny it might sound. _I am a star._

Throwing the covers off of himself, he sped to the bathroom to take a quick shower, threw some clothes on, and was heading down the stairs within ten minutes.

The moment he reached the bottom of the steps, he saw a flash of teal-colored hair, and before he knew it, he was being smothered in a crushing embrace.

Trunks slipped his arms around the trembling form of his mother, reaching up to stroke her hair in an attempt to comfort her. Was she that upset about what had happened back at the lookout?

Bulma pulled away to cup Trunks's face in her hands, trails of tears streaming out of her eyes. "Honey, I'm sorry. I got carried away, you know me when it comes to new and improved knowledge, but that's no excuse. I'll just have to satisfy my genius intellect elsewhere. Forgive me, son?"

She sounded almost as arrogant as his dad in that statement; he had to force himself not to laugh. Well, his parents did have quite a bit in common. They would never admit it even to themselves, but the fact remained. Trunks smiled and shook his head. "There's nothing to forgive mom. Yeah it was stupid, inconsiderate, completely out of line…you get the idea. Don't ever do it again, and we'll call it even. I am _not_ becoming anyone's lab rat. Ever. But don't feel too bad about what happened, okay? That was only part of the reason I was so upset. You just kind of added to everything else that was piling up, and I couldn't take all of it anymore. I had to get away. I'm sorry if I worried you."

"Oh, don't apologize, you'll make me feel even guiltier! No experiments, I promise."

"Damn right," agreed Vegeta from where he stood with Gohan and Goten, leaning against the arched frame that led into the living room.

"There was never any doubt of that. No son of mine is ever becoming someone's toy; the thought of it disgusts me!" Vegeta sneered, making a face that clearly expressed his displeasure. He threw a glance in Trunks's direction. "At least you've finally decided to drag yourself out of bed. We don't have all day you know. We have no idea when Braeden will strike next."

Trunks smirked and raised an eyebrow, seeing right through his bravado. "Oh, yeah? If that's how you feel, then why didn't you just get me up yourself?"

The Saiyan prince's face turned red and he quickly jerked his head away to hide his expression. "I have better things to do. Besides, I can't have you dropping dead on me while there is still work to be done!"

"Sure dad…I believe you," Trunks replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. Maybe those who didn't know Vegeta would have bought that, but he wasn't. His dad hadn't wanted to disturb him, he thought with another satisfied smirk.

Vegeta turned his head to meet Trunks's mischievous eyes, growling and shooting his son a threatening glance. "You think you're so smart, don't you, tough guy?" He made an attempt at a glare, but not too long after that, it dropped off of his face and became an amused smile. Vegeta chuckled, shrugged his shoulders, and turned to walk away. "Whatever. I'm going to see how the preparations for the time machine are going." And with that, the Saiyan prince strode out of the room, leaving everyone else behind to toss each other knowing grins.

Gohan, looking sheepish and apologetic, stepped toward Trunks, arm extended in front of him in a gesture slightly reminiscent of helplessness. Before he could say anything, Trunks raised a hand to stop him. He didn't want to hear another word, because he knew what he would say. There was no need for that. He'd already forgiven him. After all, Gohan _was_ a bookworm. What could you expect?

"Please don't Gohan, seriously. I don't wanna hear it. You heard what I said to mom just now, the same goes for you. You guys are helpless when it comes to things like that, it's not _your _fault you're a total nerd."

Gohan threw back his head and laughed, some of the mischief of his teenaged years returning to him. "What can I say? All that studying mom forced me into must have rubbed off," he said, rubbing the back of his head in a helpless gesture that made him look exactly like Goku.

"At least _someone _in the family escaped being lame," Goten drawled, pointing to himself and punching his brother playfully on the shoulder. The way everyone was acting right now, you'd think they were at a peaceful gathering instead of preparing to travel to the future.

"Well, come on guys. We'd better not keep his highness waiting any longer. Not that time matters that much when you have a time machine, but that doesn't ever matter to him," Bulma uttered, rolling her eyes as she turned to walk outside. Trunks laughed his agreement, following her through the door. He was about to walk out into the yard toward the time machine, when he heard Gohan murmur something to Goten, thinking he was unheard.

"I don't know what you said to him Goten, but whatever it was, it worked," said the voice of Gohan, no doubt referring to Trunks.

"Ah, I didn't do much. He just needed a little push, that's all," Goten answered, modest and cheerful.

Smiling to himself, Trunks walked forward toward where the time machine stood, shaking his head in disbelief. It might seem like nothing to Goten, but it meant so much to him. Someone had to keep his ass positive enough to live. Goten had done that more times than Trunks could count. Someday, somehow, he'd find a way to thank him for that.

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Well, that had taken even less time than he'd though it would. Vegeta stood outside of the time machine, preparing to watch the boys depart. After the last minute checks had been done on the maintenance, it hadn't taken long at all to get both boys secure into the time machine. His woman had explained the controls to them, which were simplistic enough, and that was that. Now she stood fidgeting beside the machine, trying to find some excuse to keep them there longer.

"You know, maybe I should check that energy generator again. Wouldn't want that to fail on you guys half way through the journey. Then where would you be? I'll just…"

"Enough, you're driving me crazy! Let them go, already. Hell, they'll be safer there then we will be here. What's to worry about?" Vegeta asked, baffled. Why the hell she was behaving like this was beyond him; that time machine was flawless, she'd been working on it for years and years on end.

Bulma sighed and pushed a hand through her hair. "You're right." Turning back to the time machine, she leaned forward to kiss Trunks on the cheek. "You be careful Trunks!"

Vegeta watched as Trunks flashed her a confident smile, slightly reminiscent of his own, of course. The boy _was _his son; of course he was confident! He was too brilliant not to be. His son finally seemed to have discovered that. "Don't worry mom, I'll be fine. If all goes well, we should be back in about an hour your time anyway. You won't even miss me!" Bulma nodded and forced a smile, giving him one last kiss on the cheek before turning away.

Chi-Chi, who had finally come out of her depression induced hiding, literally lunged forward to crush Goten in what seemed to be half headlock, half embrace. How Kakarot was able to stand that woman was completely beyond him; she must be one of the most annoying beings in the universe! But, in all fairness, most of what Kakarot did was inconceivable to him anyhow. This was certainly no different.

"Goten, you'd better come back to me, or I swear to Kami you are grounded for the rest of your afterlife!" Chi-Chi cried, squeezing the daylights out of the demi-Saiyan, who struggled to wriggle out of the crushing embrace. Finally, after one last heartfelt squeeze, she let go and turned to stand beside Bulma, wiping tears from her eyes.

In his peripheral vision, Vegeta saw Gohan step towards his younger brother. Well, he supposed this meant it was his turn too. He sucked at goodbyes, but this shouldn't be hard. After all, he'd see Trunks, both of them, in an hour. Luckily for him, there was no need to say much.

"Be sure to tell your older self to get his ass over here right now. He might as well make himself useful again," Vegeta said to Trunks, who laughed and nodded.

"Well that _is _the whole reason we're going. Besides, it shouldn't be hard for me to convince him. After all, who knows me better than me, right?" Trunks replied, throwing him a mischievous smirk.

_That's what he thinks. _Vegeta uttered a short laugh and offered a smirk of his own. "I suppose. You'll just have to wait and see!"

"That sounds mysterious," Trunks responded, looking thoughtful.

Good, it was suppose to. To Trunks, it may seem like he and his counterpart were pretty much the same person, but if that was what he thought, he was wrong. His son from the future was a little darker than his young counterpart; more serious and haunted. Though Vegeta himself hadn't even realized this until recently, that lonely haunted look, the one he'd seen in his future son's eyes so many times, was the very one he strove to prevent from ever entering his younger son's face.

Though there were and always would be differences between the two versions of his sons, he was beginning to see more similarities to his future son popping up in the younger, especially since this conflict with Braeden had begun. The thought unsettled him a little; he'd never wanted his present son to have a reason for that lonely, haunted look, but he'd been unable to prevent it. It was inevitable, he supposed. It was bound to happen some time, and that time was now.

Pulling himself out of the depths of his mind, he took in his young son's perplexed expression and couldn't resist laughing at the sight. For the first time in his life, he wished he had a camera; it was that priceless. "Mysterious, you say? Then I guess I've done my job." Without another word he walked away laughing, all of the others looking on in confusion.

"Ugh, that's so cryptic!" shouted Trunks, half amused and annoyed.

"You'll see, son! You'll see."

Trunks sighed, looking as if he wanted to argue. Instead, he gave a frustrated shake of his head, pressing a button on the control panel in the time machine and causing the protective glass bubble to cover the top, enclosing the two boys inside of it.

Bulma took Vegeta's hand as the machine lifted up into the air, carrying Trunks and Goten to a future unknown to them. Oddly enough, he wasn't worried. He knew they'd be alright; now all he had to do was stay alive for an hour until they got back. Simple enough, even for a walking disaster such as himself. Vegeta laughed silently at that thought, a smile on his face as he watched the time machine disappear from sight.

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Wow, this turned out a lot longer than I expected O.o. Oh well, I'm sure you guys aren't complaining XD. Except for maybe the fact that I ended it here, of all places. Sorry, but I wasn't about to screw up the pacing of the story by rushing things. Anyway, hang in there! Thanks for reading, reviews are much appreciated!


	11. Chapter 11

_**Author's Note: **_Hey guys! Just wanted to get one thing straight here. As you know, you are always free to ask me anything about elements of the plot that have already been revealed. However, if you have questions about what will happen in the future of this story, don't even bother asking them, because I'm not going to answer you XD. You'll just have to read to find out.

A lot of you have commented on the fact that the time machine has only two seats in it, and question how Mirai Trunks is going to come back with them because of that, but you're forgetting an important thing. Mirai has his own time machine, why would he need to go with them? All he would have to do is set his own time machine so it would go back to the past at the exact same time as Trunks and Goten's.

Last but not least to my anonymous reviewer, j. Um, dude? That technique requires a shit load of energy. He can't just do it whenever he feels like it because in the end, it leaves him drained for awhile. Braeden would have to wait to use that until he's absolutely sure he's done playing with them, as disgusting as that sounds. That's just the kind of person Braeden is. Warped, and twisted as hell. He likes torture.

So, some of you are wondering what's up with Dende, right? You're about to find out :D. Well, that's enough for now. On with the story!

**Chapter 11**

Earth's guardian rested his head against the hard metal wall, shivering with cold and fear. How long had he been here? It couldn't be too long, but it was hard to keep track in a place like this, with no light to judge by. Braeden had interrogated him for a solid eight hours straight; the same questions over and over again. How do I call the dragon? What are you doing to bar my efforts? How many of your fingernails will I have to pull off before I can get you to tell me?

Dende shuddered, and huddled even closer to the wall of the dark containment cell, searching for some type, any type, of warmth, but he knew he'd find none. Somehow, despite knowing that, he still couldn't stop the impulse to search for comfort that wasn't there.

_At least he hasn't done anything to me…yet…_Dende thought, struggling to swallow over the lump of dread that had lodged itself into his throat. He'd slapped him around quite a bit just for kicks, and as a result, Dende could hardly even see through his left eye, but at least he was alive. Of course, he could just use his powers to heal himself, but he thought it would be better if he saved his energy for when he would need it more…when the torture began. That monster had said that he didn't want to risk severely harming the keeper of the Dragonballs unless it was necessary, but he was clearly getting impatient with his unresponsiveness; and to top it off, whenever Braeden even vaguely spoke of the horror that was to come, there was always an eager, mad gleam in his eye. The young Namekian could only hope that Vegeta and the others would find him, before it was too late.

Dende blinked back tears and gathered his resolve, knowing he was going to need every bit he could muster. It didn't matter whether they got here in time or not, he wasn't telling Braeden anything! As guardian of the Earth, it was his sworn duty to make sure he did everything in his power to protect the planet and its inhabitants. He wasn't going to fail them now, not again. Even if it meant he'd have to die to do that…he might not have a choice. Luckily, he'd thought of modifying the Dragonballs so Shenron would only respond to Namekian, or Braeden probably would have already won.

With a forlorn sigh, Dende settled into the uncomfortable bunk, feeling drained. There was nothing he could do right now to help his current situation, so he might as well try to get some rest while he could. Though, he had no idea how successful _that _would be. It took awhile but, after more time than he cared to estimate, he finally began to drift off to sleep.

Just as he began to lapse into unconsciousness, he felt a vague presence in his head, faint, yet still detectable. It moved in and sifted through his mind, searching for a response, or so it seemed.

….._Dende? You alright?_ the voice of Piccolo asked tentatively, sounding concerned.

_Piccolo! You're here!_ Dende communicated, ecstatic. The young guardian smiled silently to himself, happy that he was no longer alone, even if he only had thoughts to keep him company. He should have known the elder Namekian would be able to find him, at least so they could communicate telepathically. _Yes, I'm fine! He hasn't hurt me much yet, just asked me questions over and over again._

_Good, I'm glad. I was getting worried there… Listen, just hang in there a little longer. We have a plan, we just need an hour or two to set it into motion. If all goes well, we'll be able to get you out of there soon. I won't tell you exactly what it is, so you won't have to lie if Braeden tries to force it out of you, but let's just say we're going to be aided by an old friend,_ Piccolo sent to Dende, tone confident, even through his thoughts.

Dende nodded, even though he knew Piccolo couldn't see him, and let out a small sigh of relief. He wasn't sure what the Namek meant by that, but whatever it was, Piccolo seemed happy about it, and Dende trusted him. Even if Braeden did decide to take him for more intense questioning, surely he could take an hour or so of that if necessary, right? If what Piccolo said was true, he'd be home soon. He trusted all of his friends with his life; he knew they would give it all they had to set him free and put a stop to this madness.

_I'm not sure what it is you guys have in mind, but I believe in you! I know I'll be alright as long as I have you guys to help me._

Piccolo's disembodied voice seemed to soften as it spoke. _I'm with you Dende…we're all with you. Even if he does try something before we're ready, I'll take care of it. You won't feel anything, no matter what. I promise._

Earth's guardian narrowed his eyes in confusion. _What do you mean? Piccolo, you can't try to fight him by yourself again, he'll kill you!_

Piccolo's amused chuckle could be heard, even through their telepathic connection. _That's not exactly what I meant. Hopefully you won't have to find out what I mean at all._

Rolling over onto his side, Dende scrunched up his brow in worry. He couldn't help but wonder what Piccolo had in mind, but he supposed it couldn't be helped. The Namekian wasn't going to budge, of that, Dende was certain. It just wasn't in his nature. Sighing, he answered Piccolo in a resigned tone.

_All right, I know you're not going to tell me, _he murmured, closing his eyes so he would no longer have to look at the eerie metallic walls and the bars that enclosed him. He was really sleepy…he should rest now. _Hey…Piccolo?_

_Hmm? _the Namek answered.

_Would you stay with me? Please?_ Dende asked, not quite succeeding in hiding a note of desperation. Now that he had some type of company, he didn't want to let it go, even if he would be drifting into the peaceful oblivion of his dreams.

_Sure, kid. Just sleep now. It'll be over before you know it. _

_Thank you, _mumbled the young Namekian, as he let himself sag into the frigid steel bunk. It wasn't very comfortable, but it didn't matter. He was too tired to care. Placing his hands under his head and snuggling closer to the wall, he allowed himself to drift into the pleasant nothingness of sleep, hoping for something better to wake up to.

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The wind blew peacefully in the warm spring air, fluttering long blades of grass and moving gracefully through the leaves in the trees. A small, deep green time machine materialized seemingly out of nowhere, coming down to settle in a clearing on the dense forest floor. Birds dashed wildly around to get out of the path of the foreign intruder, obviously frightened of this strange creature they'd never seen before.

Trunks almost felt sorry for them, those flailing little birds, struggling and stumbling through their lives as they did. It couldn't be easy. Hell, who was he kidding? It wasn't easy. He knew that first hand.

Shaking his head as if to shake off his musing, Trunks pressed a button on the front control panel and popped off the glass top of the time machine, unbuckling himself from his harness as he did so. Goten, from beside him, did the same, and both boys leaped out of the machine together, excited and eager to see how different the future really was. Trunks didn't know about Goten, but judging from his expression, his friend was almost as psyched as he was. Almost.

"All right, we're here! This thing actually works. Awesome!" Goten cried, pumping his fist into the air. "Let's do this! We have to find…um, you. Where should we start?"

Trunks chuckled, amused. This was already pretty weird, and they'd just gotten here. What the hell was he supposed to say once he met, well… himself? What should he say to anyone about it, if he had to ask around about where this other Trunks was? Hi there, I'm looking for myself, have you seen him? _That _was going to go over well.

Luckily he wouldn't have to do that…all he had to do was seek out the highest power level on the planet, and he'd find him. Or, he could just go to Capsule Corp., assuming it was in the same place that it was in his own time. He'd start with the most obvious.

"Let's search power levels. We should be able to sense him easily, if he's the most powerful person on this planet," Trunks decided.

Goten smiled, and bobbed his head in agreement. "Yeah, that makes sense."

Trunks stretched out with his senses, feeling Goten do the same, but just as they were beginning to sort through the stronger power levels, they no longer had to bother. A huge surge of energy erupted from an area far to the east, along with four smaller ones. "Do you feel that?" Trunks asked, amazed.

His friend nodded, eyes wide. "Yeah…man, it's amazing! One of those has to be the other you, right? But who…?"

"Who are the others?" Trunks finished, furrowing his brow in suspicion. They weren't allies by the feel of them, Trunks could tell. Ever since he's gained his power, he'd become more sensitive to the auras of others, whether they were evil, or good. Though they were a ways away from the sources of the power levels, he could clearly feel that four of them were evil, while the other's aura burned with brilliant goodness, almost enveloping the others with the sheer magnitude of it. It had to be his counterpart, his older self.

"Well, they're definitely enemies. I can feel it," Trunks replied, clenching his fists at his sides.

"Okay, but I don't think it matters. Just feel the power of this guy compared to the other ones! Wow Trunks, older you is powerful as hell!" Goten shouted, a mischievous smile on his face.

"You're right, it really is incredible!" Trunks mused, impressed by the man's power. He was even more powerful than Vegeta was, and certainly more powerful than himself. "Let's go see what this is all about. From the feel of things he probably won't need our help, but just in case. I wouldn't want him to get hurt because we were too stupid to go help him out. Besides, I want to get this done as soon as possible. I know technically it doesn't matter how long we spend here, but I'm still worried about Dende and the others. I want this to be over, the sooner the better."

"About five miles or so due east, right?" said Goten, surprising Trunks with his knowledge. Goten kept improving more and more, and it could only get better from there. This really was just what his friend needed in order to grow up a little, he was sure of it now. It was happening more and more.

"That's right. Hey, you've actually been paying attention to things, huh?" Trunks replied, smirking at Goten, who smiled briefly and punched him on the shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah, even I can learn stuff when I want to. Let's go! Last one there has to do the other's homework for a month!" With that, Goten sprung into the air, laughing in delight. Trunks wasn't sure how he felt about being so cheerful under the circumstances, especially when they were going to a deadly fight against four unknown beings in order to prevent the imminent doom of life as they knew it, but what could he do? It wasn't going to harm anything, so he might as well try to be optimistic. Trunks's lips curved up into a smile. Yeah, right.

"Fine, but there's no way you can win, even if you did take off before me! Cheater!" he shouted, as he flew up and away after Goten, chuckling to himself. What could it hurt? It was better to be loose and less stressed out before you went into a fight. That way, if they had to do anything at all, unlikely as that was, they'd be more ready for it.

Trunks couldn't wait to meet his other self, even at a dire time like this. He was a little nervous about it though, he had to admit. It was going to be weird, and probably awkward, especially at first, but at least he'd know what he was going to look like when he got to that age. How old was this guy, anyway? Must be at least in his mid-thirties.

At any rate, he didn't have time to be too nervous, because they would be coming up on the battle site soon.

After a few more minutes of speeding along through the clear blue sky, Trunks called out to Goten, deciding they were close enough. "Hey, stop! If we get any closer, we'll be noticed. I want to observe what's going on first. If we just rush in there, we might only get in his way. I don't want that."

"Yeah, me neither. Man, I kinda wanna fight them though! It would be good practice for Braeden," Goten stated, enthusiastic. "My dad always said, the best way to improve is to practice, practice, practice, and try your best!"

"Hey, who knows? Maybe we will get our shot," Trunks replied, tossing him a lopsided grin. He wanted a piece of these guys too. It would be nice to let off some of the pent up steam.

Scanning the ground, Trunks spotted several figures all standing around what appeared to be a spaceship. Though he couldn't see their features clearly from this far away, and the spaceship wasn't very visible, it was enough for him to get some idea of what this was all about. From the looks of it, it had the same basic design as the ship that Frieza had used when he'd come to the Earth that final time, years before he'd been born. He'd only seen the pictures and basic, guesswork blueprints his mother had come up with, but he was almost sure he was right. _Hmph, fine by me_. They were just the right punching bags for his temperament right now. Even though he'd never met Frieza, he didn't have to; he hated his guts, after all the despicable shit that disgusting tyrant had done. Honestly, he was kind of hoping other him would need help, so he could smash their faces in.

Shifting his eyes further to the right, he saw the perfect place for he and Goten to hide, behind a clump of trees. It was close enough for them to observe what was going on without it being obvious to the fighters.

"You are shielding your power level, aren't you?" asked Trunks, double checking. Not that it mattered now. If Goten hadn't hid his power, the fighters down there would already feel them.

"Yeah, don't worry," the young Saiyan replied. Goten's face fell, and he suddenly looked troubled. Looking slightly unsure of himself, he looked over at Trunks and asked him a hesitant question. "I'm trying really hard not to miss anything, how am I doing?"

Trunks clapped him on the shoulder, and smiled with pride. "You're doing a great job, really you are. I'm impressed. Just keep it up, don't worry so much," Trunks told him, truthfully. That seemed to perk him up, and Goten nodded with renewed enthusiasm. It was the truth; Trunks was really impressed with Goten. He found it particularly admirable that his friend could mature, yet still keep that same hint of innocence that he'd always had.

Without speaking, Trunks pointed to the spot behind the trees that would become their hiding place. Or stalker pad, depending on how you looked at it. Almost out of nowhere, Trunks felt like laughing. Sneaking around, hiding their power levels and ducking behind trees as they followed people. It was almost like old times.

He took off towards the indicated spot with Goten on his heels, being careful to avoid notice by the people below as they descended. Finally, after a few minutes of creeping among the vegetation, they reached the shelter of the trees, just in time to see that they had missed at least part of the fight. One blue skinned alien was lying on the ground, blood gushing out of a wound in his abdomen, while three others of various species stood around wearing expressions of shock, some frozen in the middle of performing a technique or physical attack. All of them stared with expressions of disbelieving fear at a single figure that stood before them, unwaveringly fearless and undeniable powerful.

A man with glowing golden hair and striking blue-green eyes stood unmoving in front of the horrified aliens, hand still outstretched and steaming from the energy that had been unleashed. His aura, bright and mesmerizing, engulfed his mighty being, infused with bolts of lightning and as brilliant gold as the hair that stood up high on his head. Wearing an intense expression that made him look eerily similar to Vegeta, he smiled sadly, shaking his head with what seemed to be half disgust, half pity.

"You seriously don't get it, do you? You guys don't stand a chance against me. Your days of terrorizing innocent people in Frieza's name are at an end! It all stops here! I won't let you hurt people anymore!"

One of the aliens, a henchman of Frieza he assumed, mustered up enough courage to sneer. "Is that so? I doubt it! What you did just now was just a fluke. Yes, it must have been! You're only a pathetic Saiyan! You must be the only one left, and with good reason!"

Future Trunks smiled, but this time it seemed quite different than the last. This smile was one of happiness, one of a mysterious kind of joy, as if he were laughing at some private joke. "Not for long."

Now what was that suppose to mean? Unless…_Oh Kami…_could he have…kids? Trunks kind of hoped not. That was even weirder than anything else that had happened so far. Before he had time to freak out even more, something highly suspicious happened. The three remaining henchmen exchanged glances in what looked to be some kind of a signal. It didn't escape his counterpart's notice either. Trunks didn't know what they were planning, but he didn't like it. Even though their power individually was nothing to worry about, if they could coordinate with each other, they might be able to do some serious damage.

_This is the perfect time to use my freakish little power_, Trunks thought with amusement. Locking onto the three henchmen, he stretched out with his senses, concentrating as hard as he could on the aliens and willing himself to see what thoughts filled their heads. Sure enough, it did not fail him; in no time at all, he could hear the thoughts flooding into his head, so fast he had trouble sorting them out at first.

They were afraid, but a little smug; one of them wasn't as sure as the other two, for he was contemplating running away, but the others were feeling rather vicious and more confident. Why...? It had to be there somewhere. At least one must be thinking of it.

_Wait…that's odd…. _Trunks swore he could hear five alien voices instead of three, but that was impossible, wasn't it? Narrowing his eyes in suspicion, he traced the thoughts back to their sources, three that he could see…and sure enough, two more were hidden inside the spaceship. If he hadn't decided to use his power, he never would have known they were there until it was too late; these guys were that good at cloaking their power levels. Trunks struggled to block out the other voices as he zeroed in on the two inside the spaceship, concentrating hard on what they were thinking.

_Filthy Saiyan. Just wait until you feel this. You'll have no clue what hit you! Hahahahaha! With this combination of our power, we'll create an energy beam far more powerful than you can withstand! _Trunks heard one of them sneer to himself, full of murderous intent.

Shit, this was bad…very bad. With their level of power, whatever they could dish out probably wouldn't be strong enough to kill his future self, but it could severely injure him, and there was no way he was going to let that happen! They had to jump in, now!

Future Trunks glared at the trio of henchmen with calculating wariness. "I don't know what you guys are planning, but whatever it is, you won't have time to act on it. You're done, right here and now!" With a feral bellow, his energy exploded in a magnificent display of golden sparks, causing his power to sky rocket even more, if that was at all possible. This was definitely the Super Saiyan two form, and a mighty one at that. But even a Super Saiyan two couldn't escape injury from such a deadly beam as the one that was planned for him. Trunks turned his attention to his older self's thoughts, trying to skip over the more personal stuff; he didn't want to invade his privacy any more than he had to.

He knew they had something planned for him, but he didn't want to let them live long enough to find out what it was. He'd had enough horrifically violent surprises in his lifetime. And, as Trunks had feared, he didn't know that there were two more henchmen hiding in the ship, waiting for the perfect moment to strike him down.

One of Frieza's former henchmen smiled a horrific smile, and uttered a laugh that was full of malicious anticipation. "That's what you think…but you're about to get the biggest surprise of your pathetic life! You two, now!" he shouted, addressing the two aliens that hid in the spaceship.

_Oh no you don't! Not if I can help it! _Trunks thought in desperation. They had to stop these disgusting aliens right now, there was no delaying anymore! This future Trunks was in a nasty fix; one he didn't know of, and had no hope of seeing.

_Die! _the hidden aliens exclaimed in unison inside their heads, as a deadly, blue-white blast exploded through the space ship, rocketing towards the unsuspecting future warrior.

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Yup, you hate me, I know! I'd hate me too if someone ended a chapter there on me! Sorry guys ^_^


	12. Chapter 12

_**Author's Note: **_Hey guys, back with another installment! I'm hoping there won't be any confusion in which Trunks I am talking about at any time, but if there is, please let me know =). One more thing, the following, beginning scene happens in a matter of about a second or two, though it doesn't seem like it. That's important. That's all, I won't keep you. On with the story!

**Chapter 12**

Power exploded from inside of Trunks, in rage at the underhanded trick that was being used against his counterpart. How dare they? Using trickery like this instead of facing him head on, like true warriors! His father was right; honor would get you nowhere when it came to villains such as these, because they didn't know the meaning of the word. He let loose a ferocious bellow and harnessed the anger inside of him, making the transformation to a Super Saiyan in almost no time. Without a second thought, he teleported onto the battle field, Goten still crouching in the hedges and frozen in bewilderment. The poor guy was so surprised, it was going to take him a second to recover and follow.

Future Trunks, who had just noticed the energy beam rocketing toward him, had only seconds to react, and no time to do anything except twist sideways to try to minimize the blow. Trunks materialized beside him, just in time for him to leap and thrust his right hand forward in an attempt to further deflect the beam. Pure energy seared into his hand, burning his flesh painfully, but he had no time to care. He only hoped this would be enough to help. His momentum carried him forward and he crashed face-first into the ground, unable to stop.

The blue-white beam of light scorched the right side of the future warrior's torso, sending him flying back and causing him to stumble, blood already running in rivulets down his side. However, surprisingly enough, and much to young Trunks's delight, the warrior was able to stay on his feet. Trunks lifted himself up with his uninjured hand, and breathed a sigh of relief. The wound wasn't fatal. His efforts had not been able to fully stop it from hitting, but it did make a world of difference. On the path it had been headed, it would have struck Future Trunks straight through some of his vital organs. Luckily, due to the future warrior twisting slightly away, and from the way Trunks had deflected it with his hand, the older man was able to escape serious injury.

By this time, Goten had transformed and rushed onto the battle field. He now stood between the aliens and the two Trunks', crouched into a battle stance and ready to spring. "Are you guys all right?" he asked, hazarding a quick glance over his shoulder at them.

"Uh…yeah, we're fine," Trunks answered, after studying Future Trunks, who had the most comical look of disbelief plastered on his face. The older man's mouth hung open in shock, as if he couldn't really believe what he was seeing. He knew the feeling…he was probably openly gaping himself. Even though his counterpart was obviously older, it was still eerie as hell, almost like looking into a mirror. He studied his future self with avid interest, bordering on awe.

This older Trunks's face was identical to his own, though his features were a bit more sharply defined due to his older age, and he stood at least a few inches taller. His hair, instead of being cut short above the ears, flowed past his shoulders even in his Super Saiyan form. He was about as buff as they came too. Trunks prided himself in how well he maintained his own physique, but this guy was something else entirely. By the looks of him, he could probably kick his ass…nah; he could definitely kick his ass.

But that wasn't all, there was more he could see. Though they looked strikingly similar physically, there was something different in his counterpart's eyes, a certain glint of fiery determination, of implacable resolve and an unshakable will. This man was a warrior, a fighter to the end. No matter what happened, he was the type of person who would rather die than ever surrender to someone who dared to hurt people needlessly. He was a true Saiyan, a lone warrior. Trunks wasn't sure how he could see all of this; he wasn't using his power to search through his thoughts. He just _knew._ Knew it with every fiber of his being and in every fragment of his soul. There was no way to explain it, no way he could describe it, even to himself, yet despite that, he knew it to be true. Suddenly it struck him, and he realized with a strange twist of irony, _He's exactly how I want to be…_

Trunks, blinking rapidly, pulled himself out of his trance, smiling sheepishly at, well…himself. "Um…hi?"

Future Trunks squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head slowly from side to side, blinking like a bewildered animal, then favored him with a tentative smile. "Hey there…I guess. You really helped me out, thanks a lot. I don't want to sound ungrateful, but…what are you doing here? And um…who is he?" he asked, pointing to Goten.

The aforementioned young Saiyan, who was still crouched in front of them, laughed heartily, mumbling something that sounded like, "Wouldn't you like to know." _Hehehe…he's enjoying this._

Trunks's lips quirked up into a smile while his counterpart raised an eyebrow, half amused and half curious. "I'd be happy to fill you in, trust me. Let's take care of these guys first, then we can talk," Trunks answered. Future Trunks nodded in understanding; surely he knew they hadn't come just for some recreational visit. He could tell the mystery of it all was eating at him, but this man had his priorities straight. Well, it was kind of hard not to when you had several aliens standing in front of you who wanted you dead.

While this exchange had occurred, Frieza's henchmen, now including the two that had been previously hidden, stood around frozen in shock, horrified that their plan had failed. Trunks harnessed his mind reading powers and directed his energy toward them, but he needn't have bothered; they were thinking what he had expected. They were so surprised that there were more Saiyans they hadn't known about, that they had no idea what to do with themselves. Their situation seemed even more hopeless to them than it had before, and with good reason. These guys were as good as dead.

Reaching up with his hand, Trunks gently massaged his temples, trying to ease the ache there. He was getting a headache, but it wasn't so bad. Not nearly as bad as it had been the last time. This he could deal with. Of course, part of it could be his hand. It was burning like a bitch, and adding to his pain. Suddenly, unexpectedly, a hand crept into his field of vision, startling him. He looked up to see his older self reaching down to where he was still sprawled on the ground, attempting to help him up. His cerulean eyes held many questions in them, perhaps wondering how this younger version of himself could have possibly known what was coming before anyone else, yet there was the utmost concern in them as well as curiosity.

Trunks smiled and took the offered hand, grateful for his kindness. He'd repay him by answering the questions he held, everything, and with all honesty. Though it had already been necessary to share every bit of knowledge with this other Trunks in order for him to be well prepared for Braeden, he now had absolutely no qualms about doing it. Honestly, he'd been a little nervous about telling other people about his powers, but to his counterpart, he supposed it would be okay. He wasn't the kind of man that would judge someone harshly just because they were different.

Future Trunks quickly, but gently, pulled him to his feet. "All right, let's get this over with so I can get this mystery solved. I can't wait to find out how I can finally repay everyone for all they've done for me. It's the least I can do. I'm assuming there's trouble?"

"How very astute of you," Trunks replied, smirking. He couldn't resist…he'd always wanted to say that for some reason. It made him sound like one of those losers Gohan knew from college. The ones who were always trying to make themselves look smart. Too bad for them; they were obvious morons anyway.

Future Trunks shot him a smirk of his own, and chuckled. "Yup, you've definitely been around father." He smiled and shook his head. "Well, time to take out the trash, so we can get to the important stuff. These losers aren't worth my time. Scumbags like them don't deserve to live, all they do is destroy." He glared at the aliens with contempt. "People like you who only know how to hurt others! People like you, who always hurt her…I won't forgive you…none of you!"

Trunks frowned, wondering who he was talking about. It was obviously someone he loved very much, judging from the murderous expression on his face. His wife maybe, if he had one? Girlfriend? For a second, he thought about searching the man's thoughts to find out, but that wouldn't be fair. It just wasn't worth it. He was determined not to abuse his power, and damn it, he meant to keep that vow. He'd find out who Future Trunks spoke of soon enough.

"Man are you guys unlucky! It just so happens, I've been in a pretty bad mood lately. I've got a lot of pent up anger to deal with here, and you assholes are the perfect scapegoats," Trunks sneered, looking forward to destroying them, as demented as that sounded. _They deserve it. I hate people like them! _Perfect practice for the real thing, when the battle with Braeden finally came about.

"Yeah baby, I was hoping for this! Bet you losers didn't expect three Saiyans, did you?" Goten shouted, springing back to fall into formation with the two Trunks'. Future Trunks grinned at the young Saiyan's enthusiasm, his gaze lingering for a second longer than necessary. He was obviously curious about him, but willing to set it aside.

"Alright you two, let's do this! Just follow my lead. We'll get this done quicker if we work together, or at the very least, if we know what everyone is doing," Future Trunks told them. Both of the younger men nodded in unison, more than willing to listen to him. He was, after all, a very experienced fighter. It was better to be absolutely sure of what you were doing, even if their opponents were pushovers compared to them.

One of the henchmen, a short, squat alien with a sickly green complexion, was quickly turning red in the face. From fear or anger, Trunks wasn't sure, but he suspected the former.

"How dare you insult us like that?! I'll have you know, we were the highest up you could be besides the Ginyu force, and now we have far surpassed anything they could have dreamed of!" he seethed, obviously feeding off of whatever pathetic scrap of pride he still had.

"Uh huh, fantastic. Well it just so happens that my father and the rest of the Z fighters made quick work of them. You guys will suffer a similar fate, I promise," Trunks replied, in a tone that was almost bored. He hoped this would at least be enough for him to get a sufficient workout. They were nothing compared to the power all three Saiyans held combined.

"What he said!" Goten chimed in, his fighting spirit high.

Frieza's henchmen sprang into action together, unleashing feral bellows in unison; unlocking the depths of their power. Their power levels climbed and climbed, higher and higher, but Trunks wasn't worried. They were still no match for three Super Saiyans.

"On my mark, you two surround them from the sides; I'll come at them from the center. Handle however many you think you can get away with without getting hurt," Future Trunks murmured in an undertone, low enough so the henchmen wouldn't hear his words. "Don't let any of them get away, no matter what. If we surround them in a loose circle, we should be able to keep them right where we want them."

Trunks dropped fully into a fighter's stance, carefully avoiding clenching his burned hand too hard. Goten, who stood to the right of Future Trunks, did the same, though his style varied from Trunks's own. As a unit, all three Saiyans concentrated their energy, screaming their own savage cries to raise their already enormous power.

Each group went on like that for a few moments more, the voices of the Saiyans and those who opposed them mingling together to create one combined, savage cry that rang across the land. The Earth trembled and shook under the shear force of the rising energy, as loose stones and stray dust flew all around them in the wake of their unleashed power. Only when the ferocious cries ceased was the ground around them still, leaving nothing behind but an eerie silence and multiple auras of brilliant gold and midnight blue.

They stared each other down, tensed up and willing, ready to strike at a seconds notice. Who would move first? How would this tightly wound silence break? Trunks wasn't sure, but if something didn't happen soon, he was going to explode. He was pumped up, and more than willing to put Frieza's last lackeys out of their misery.

Then it happened; the sign he had been waiting for, the signal to strike. With an unmistakable jerk of his head, Future Trunks let them know that this battle had begun, next putting on a burst of blurring speed and heading towards the front and center of the alien forces. As they had planned, Trunks came around at them from the left side, with Goten following suit from the right. As his counterpart had thought, they were all too distracted by the surprise of the older man rushing them head on. So surprised, they didn't even register the other two fighters until both Trunks and Goten were already boxing them in from the sides. These henchmen were trapped, and there was no way they were going anywhere. Not if he could help it.

Trunks closed the distance between himself and his enemies, throwing a left punch straight into the face of one of the men who, at that exact moment, was turning to face him. The blue-skinned alien, a tall, slender man of a race he'd never seen before, flew back under the force of the blow, next recovering to spin around in an attempt to catch Trunks with a roundhouse kick. He managed to duck just in time, flitting back to avoid the blow.

As he tried to anticipate his enemy's next move, a simple, obvious solution popped into his head. Simple for _him, _at least. _There's a sure way I can win this, _he thought joyfully, as he fixed his opponent with a sly smile, momentarily disarming the man with the sheer, violent glee contained there. Trunks had always wanted to repay Frieza somehow for all of the horrific things he'd done to his father, and this was probably the closest he was ever going to get. Any chance this guy had ever had of touching him was now gone. Who could defend against an invasion of the mind when you had no knowledge of it? Certainly not this sorry excuse for a man. Trunks would know every move he made, before he made it. Tapping into his power, he stretched outward with it, focusing on whoever would come into the vicinity of his side of the battle.

"What are you smiling at, punk? You know, on second thought, I don't care! I'll wipe it right off your face!" the man shouted in a rough, grating voice, and before he knew it, Trunks was staring into two faces instead of one. A second alien, one of short stature and pink, scale-like skin had come to join his comrade.

"Hey come on man, share!" yelled the newcomer, having to raise his squeaky voice up high in order to be heard over the chaos of battle. "He looks nice and weak, but they all do, so I suppose it doesn't matter! We can handle them!"

Trunks chuckled and raised an eyebrow. The sad part about that statement was, the poor guy actually believed it.

Smirking in a manner that was eerily similar to his father, Trunks sneered, and replied to them as if he were speaking to beings that were nothing more than trash. In his mind, they were even less than that. He beckoned to them with a wave of his hand, mockingly. "Come on, then. Let's see how much you can handle!"

Sure enough, just as he knew they would, the two took the bait and rushed him, each coming at him from opposite sides. Trunks pushed off of the ground with his feet and flew backward, avoiding the fists that sped after him almost effortlessly. Undeterred, the alien duo teleported out of his field of vision, but they needn't have bothered. Trunks was in the deepest parts of their minds. He knew each one of the actions they would make before even they knew them, knew exactly how to avoid their fiery attacks as they transported directly behind him. Kicking out with his feet, he caught the fighters in exactly the spot he'd hoped he would, right where their kidneys were located.

The alien duo was knocked back so fast, they had little hope of stopping their path to destruction, and they crashed straight through several of the trees in the surrounding landscape. Even after they had halted, they could hardly even bear to breathe, could scarcely get themselves to move, except to double over in pain as they now did, writhing on the ground.

The thought of attacking people while they were down, even beings such as these, made his stomach churn, but there could be no mercy. The thoughts he caught in their minds strengthened his resolve even further. Even while they were down, even as they suffered in agony, their only thoughts other than pain were to murder him, and every single being on this planet. The most horrible part of that was, they didn't have a reason. They did it just because they thought it was fun…because they could.

Trunks clenched his fists angrily at his sides, gritting his teeth in rage. He wanted this done. Yet even as he wanted it over, he didn't want it to end. These guys he could handle; their defeat at his hands would be a great boost for his morale, and he needed it for the battle with Braeden that was to come. He'd hoped for a bigger challenge, but if this was the way it had to be, so be it. They would die a terrible death, just as they'd brought upon countless others throughout the universe.

One alien managed to lift himself up by both hands, spitting up a mouthful of blood upon the ground. The other soon followed, though he didn't appear to be in any better shape than his comrade. These two had roughly the same power level; and ironically enough, they were the ones who had hidden in the spaceship…the very same people who'd hurt Future Trunks. Because of the massive amount of energy they'd exerted for that attack, they were even weaker than they normally would have been. Forcing himself to ignore any remorse he might feel for his actions, Trunks stalked forward with predatory grace, the sounds of his two brother Saiyans, still locked in their own respective battles, raging behind him.

Terrified by the cold gleam they saw in his eyes, the two henchmen charged him in desperation, once again coming together to combine their blasts, creating the deadly, blue-white beam. It didn't matter; he knew where it would strike. Trunks hastily teleported out of the way just in time; a second later and it might have caught him. He had to hand it to these men, at least in one thing. When it came to reaction time on ki based attacks, they were very quick. Too bad it just wasn't going to be enough. Nothing could save them now.

Trunks materialized directly in front of the pair, startling them, terrifying them more than ever before.

"W-What are you…? How could you avoid everything so easily? No one is capable of that, n-no one!" stammered the pink-scaled alien. _Not so big now, are you tough guy? _When it came right down to it, they were all cowards. As if to further prove his point, they tried to cower away, but Trunks certainly wasn't having that. Momentarily forgetting about his injured hand, he shot out with lightning speed to grab both of them by the meager scraps of their remaining armor, forcing himself to bite back a groan at the searing pain it caused in his right hand. _It's worth it…_

"You thought you were invincible, is that right? You thought no one could touch you, so you went around killing people, hurting people, and for what? Your dead master? The sheer pleasure of it? Maybe it was a little of both, but it doesn't make a bit of difference. All of the suffering you've caused people over the years…all of it! It ends now! Don't even think of lying to me, I saw it. Every single one of you deserves the death that is brought upon you," Trunks seethed, disgusted. As he' d been immersed in their depraved minds, he'd caught some of the past terrors they'd committed…only glimpses, but it was more than enough to erase any remorse he might have ever felt for these pitiful fools.

Glancing briefly to the side, he caught a glimpse of Goten and Future Trunks, each drawing their own battles to a close as well. To his relief, his friend appeared unhurt, and his counterpart's wound didn't seem to trouble him much. Even for just the small second he watched them, he could tell they'd had to exert as little effort, if not less, than he had. All bark and no bite these men were, just as a lot of the lesser villains were. In front of his eyes, Future Trunks mercilessly came down upon the two enemies he had cornered, grim acceptance etched into his face and fire dancing in his eyes. Future Trunks closed the remaining distance between himself and his opponents, not even sparing them a second glance as he shoved his fists through the backs of their skulls.

Brutal, yet it was more than they deserved. With a blow like that, there only would have been a few seconds of agony…then the world around them would fade to black. He had dispatched them coolly, knowing it must be done, yet he hadn't made them suffer as he no doubt could have. If he had, it might have made him just as bad as these depraved henchmen were. Perhaps that was why he'd refrained; because he knew that.

Taking a shaky breath, Trunks steeled himself for what would be his first act of purposefully killing someone. Yes, he would have happily destroyed Majin Buu if he could have, that was true. But, deep down he hadn't really thought he and Goten could accomplish what their fathers had been unable to do, at least not as easily as he had bluffed. This was different. These beings were here and at his mercy, with no escape, nowhere to run. He remembered what kind of men these were as he forced himself to think of the terrible atrocities they had committed, and knew the universe would be better off without them.

Trunks gazed once more into the terrified eyes of the first men he would ever kill, never looking away as his ki blade impaled both beings that cringed before him.

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*wince* That was dark.

Anyway guys, my next update might be a bit later than normal, because I have to write this report I've been putting off for about a month XD. But, I'll do my best to have it out sometime next week. Thanks for reading, and as always, reviews are appreciated!


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Dust blew around from beneath his feet as he stood staring at the ground, grimly watching the spreading stains of blood. They were where they belonged now, in the depths of hell with all of the other scum that had been wiped out of the universe. Even so, he had killed someone…no matter how terrible they had been. The most troubling thing of all was, he didn't care as much as he thought he should. He was actually sort of glad he'd killed them. What exactly did that make him? Was he a cold blooded killer, like these people who lie dead at his feet?

Slowly, Trunks shook his head, as if trying to shake off his own dark musings. There was no use worrying about it. There had been no way around it; it couldn't be helped. When it came to people like those henchmen had been, it was kill or be killed, predator vs. prey. Just as in nature itself.

Forcing his eyes away from the bodies, Trunks started over towards where Future Trunks and Goten were, the lifeless forms of the rest of Frieza's men strewn haphazardly across the ground. He even passed a severed arm or two as he walked, though that was really no surprise to him. Suddenly, he caught a flash of movement, and his head shot to the right just in time to see Goten blast the last remaining man through the gut with a powerful ray of ki energy. His young friend's face was steady but grim as he watched the alien fall to the ground.

He reached his counterpart just as Goten did; the older man's face was etched with intensity, and a certain sense of relief. Future Trunks let himself fall out of Super Saiyan two form, Goten and Trunks following suit. "Glad that's over. Thanks you two, you were a great help."

Trunks raised an eyebrow and smiled wryly. "You're welcome, but it's not that big of a deal. You probably could have beaten them all with one hand tied behind your back."

"Well I don't know about that," said Future Trunks, chuckling as he reached up to rub the back of his head. "But regardless of that, it was easier and quicker with you guys here."

"Eh, don't mention it. We're Saiyans; we're built for this kind of thing!" Goten uttered, obviously with more bravado than he actually felt. He did seem proud in a way, but there was a certain undercurrent of tension in him. Trunks wasn't sure how he knew that, because he wasn't reading minds right now. Maybe he was just naturally becoming more sensitive to what people were feeling because of it.

Apparently, Future Trunks could feel it too; his cerulean eyes were suddenly filled with sadness. "You've never killed before, have you?"

Trunks just stared unblinkingly back at his counterpart, words unnecessary between them, while Goten turned his head away. "Well, no but uh…doesn't bother me. They deserved it! Right?" Goten shouted, but Trunks got the feeling some of that was just for show. No matter who the scum they'd killed were, the fact remained that they had killed them. That was bound to affect Goten in some way, Saiyan or not. He seemed uncertain, unsure of right and wrong. Trunks knew the feeling.

"It was going to happen soon anyway. Might as well warm up for the big time right now. It's okay; we can deal," Trunks replied. He had to accept the ruthless nature buried in his heart, for it was bound to surface from time to time. Luckily, he had the right amount of restraint and compassion to counteract it. At least he hoped…_Ugh…_Trunks hated this, the feeling of being so uncertain.

His counterpart smiled sadly, seemed to understand. "I remember my first kill. Frieza, that nasty tyrant. I was just so angry at everything back then, being so helpless against the androids all the time. I liked being dominant for once, being the one with the upper hand. It was something I'd never known…I didn't hesitate to kill Frieza, because he deserved to die one thousand times over. If I could do it over, I'd do it the same way. But that doesn't stop me from thinking about it. I liked causing him pain. I wanted him to suffer as so many others had! I liked seeing him hurt…" the future warrior murmured, clenching his fists tightly at his sides. "That used to bother me a lot, and sometimes it still does, but over time, I learned that it doesn't have to be that way. Take control of a fight, kill or be killed. It's sad, but that's the way things are. There's nothing wrong with hating them, or being proud of your power, as long as you don't let it rule you."

Goten turned his head back toward Future Trunks and gazed at him with admiration, his eyes lighting up with relieved comprehension. Trunks felt his own lips turn up into a smile, almost of their own accord. At least it wasn't unusual to feel this way. Maybe it was just the conflicting natures of hybrids like themselves, the call to battle that their Saiyan halves produced, and the more placid nature of humans.

"You didn't have to share all of that with us, yet you did it anyway just to help us out. I appreciate that," Trunks said softly as Goten nodded his head enthusiastically.

"It's no trouble. I never had anyone to help me deal with my Saiyan heritage after Gohan died, so I guess I just want to make sure others like me understand everything. Not that you guys have ever lacked of role models, but still. They're not here right now. Speaking of which…I don't want to seem pushy, but I need answers. Why have you come here?"

"Yeah, sorry about the mystery. You already know who I am, obviously," Trunks replied with a chuckle. "Any guesses as to who he is?" he asked, pointing to Goten.

Future Trunks gazed thoughtfully at Goten for a moment. "Unless some other Saiyan popped up, there are only two options, and you do look a lot like Goku. Are you a second son of his?"

Goten grinned mischievously. "Yup! My name's Goten, I'm the youngest son of Goku," he stated with pride.

The future warrior looked dumbstruck. It seemed that instead of answering his questions, they were just giving him more. "But how is that possible? Goku died…"

Trunks nodded in confirmation. "And he stayed that way for quite some time, but things did change. We have a lot to talk about. A lot has happened since you left last time; we'll need to fill you in on all of that first, before getting to our current problem. It's a pretty bad situation, and we need your help. Is there somewhere we can go so we can talk about everything in depth? A battle field with dead bodies scattered around doesn't seem like the best place for a long chat."

"Yeah, we can go back to my place. Raven is probably worried by now anyway. I don't want her to have to come out here looking for me," Trunks murmured, the last part almost to himself. After seeing the questioning looks on their faces, he smiled happily and answered without them even having to ask.

"My fiancé. She's pregnant, so I really don't want her to have to do any more than necessary. It drives her crazy, though. She doesn't like it when other people have to fight for her. She wanted to come with me today, but in her condition…I didn't want to risk it."

Goten laughed and Trunks made a strangled sound deep in his throat, somewhere between a groan and a cry of disbelief. How the hell was he supposed to take _that_? Genetically, the kid would sort of be…kind of be…Damn, he didn't even want to think it!

"Um, uh…I'm not sure how to take that," Trunks uttered in a strangled sounding voice, as Goten continued to roar with laughter. "Oh, shut up!" he screamed at him, after taking off his shoe and throwing it in his direction, which Goten dodged. A lot of good that did; now he was laughing harder.

Future Trunks laughed too; he couldn't seem to resist. "It's weird, isn't it? But you know, it's kind of cool. Sort of like having a little brother," he finished, reaching over to tousle his young counterpart's hair affectionately.

Trunks rolled his eyes and cracked a smile. "Not the hair thing again! I hate that."

The future warrior grinned mischievously. "I know. So do I."

By now, Goten was literally rolling on the ground laughing at their antics. "He knows that…because he's you!"

"I'm glad someone is enjoying this," Trunks replied in a bland tone of voice. But, the sight of his friend like that got Future Trunks laughing and soon enough, he was laughing with them too. Laughter was infectious, even though it was a little weird to be carrying on like this in the middle of a battlefield full of dead bodies and severed limbs. Oddly enough, that thought only made Trunks laugh even harder. Whether it was with hysteria or just plain humor, he really didn't know, and decided it was better not to find out.

Goten finally staggered to his feet, wiping tears from his eyes. "I don't know why that was so funny, it just was!" he shouted, grinning from ear to ear. Trunks gave a short, cynical chuckle, and elbowed his friend playfully.

"We might as well laugh while we can. Something tells me that this coming battle is going to be one hell of a fight."

Future Trunks smiled briefly, then looked thoughtful. "You haven't even said much about it yet, but from what you have said, it sounds intense. If all of you guys are already there to deal with threats, and all of you combined need help with it. Well…must be one strong person. Let's get going so we can address all of this. I can't wait to hear everything you guys have to say." As if in preparation for take off, he shifted his weight to his right leg, then winced as he did so. "I do need to get this bound up too, before it gets infected," he finished, gingerly inspecting his wound by prodding it with his finger.

Slowly, the future warrior looked up at Trunks with concerned eyes, glancing toward his younger counterpart's injury. "How's your hand?"

_It's burning like a bitch, and I'm thinking about tearing it off, _he thought to himself painfully, but he wasn't going to say that out loud. That would only make the man feel worse than he already did. "I've had worse. I'll be fine." It wasn't a lie exactly. Just withholding information.

Future Trunks nodded, but nevertheless, he still looked a bit troubled. "Listen, I know I already said this, but thanks. You saved my life, or at the least, you saved me from being seriously hurt. I could never repay you enough for that. And you too Goten. You were a great help with the fight. Thank you. Both of you."

Both Trunks and Goten smiled. "Don't worry, it was nothing," Goten replied cheerfully, trying to ease the older man's conscience, while Trunks nodded his agreement.

"Don't mention it; I'm glad I was able to save you. Kami knows I've been trying that a lot lately. Doesn't always work," Trunks replied, in a downcast tone. He could feel Goten's compassion, even though he wasn't looking at him, and he knew that Future Trunks's questioning gaze was fixed on him.

Finally, after Trunks mentally kicked himself in the ass for being a downer again, he looked up just as his counterpart rose into the air, beckoning for them to follow. "Come on, it isn't too far." And with that, he sped of away from the site of the battle, seeming only slightly hindered by his wounds. Trunks launched himself into the air after the future warrior, Goten right beside him. He didn't know what to expect from the coming meeting, but it was going to be interesting, to say the least. Probably awkward too…._Definitely awkward_, Trunks thought, with a deep sense of unease.

After roughly ten minutes or so of gliding through the sky, Future Trunks descended in front of a familiar looking, yellow, dome-shaped dwelling. Similar in design and structure to his own home and also in the same place, it showed obvious signs of having been rebuilt recently, but nevertheless, it was eerily similar to his own house back in the past. Inside, he could feel a single power level, and to his surprise, it was actually pretty impressive. Whoever it was in there had power enough to take down Krillin, or any of the other human Z fighters back home.

Within a matter of seconds, they had all landed and were making their way up the path to Capsule Corp., but before they could even walk a few more steps, a flash of raven colored hair dashed out of the house, headed straight toward them. A slender young woman with a mane of long, glossy black hair and flashing emerald eyes skidded to a stop in front of Future Trunks, looking both worried and annoyed. Extending from her left cheek down to her chin was a thin, white scar. But, rather than taking away from her good looks, Trunks thought she looked even better because of it. All the same, he wondered how it had gotten there. _This must be Raven. _If she was pregnant, she wasn't showing yet. There was no visible bulge beneath the fabric of her shirt.

Raven, hands on her hips, directed a steady glare at her soon to be husband, but almost as soon as it appeared, it vanished as she took in the sight of his blood soaked shirt.

"Trunks! I told you to let me come to help you, and now you're hurt! Here, let me see, I'll fix it…" She sounded scared, and she didn't seem like the type of woman who fell apart easily. He could see that even in the way she was acting now, frantic, but trying not to let it show. Her hands shook as she started to tear his shirt off, but before she could go any further, Trunks placed his hand gently over hers, lifting her chin up toward his face.

"It's okay; it's not as bad as it looks. I'm not going to die on you love, never that. I promised, right?" he murmured in a comforting tone, smiling softly. Raven sighed and flashed him a shaky smile, the natural barriers she built around herself dissolving as she surrendered to her lover's embrace.

Goten cleared his throat, shifting his feet uncomfortably, which made Trunks chuckle in amusement. At the sound, Raven broke apart from Future Trunks and whipped her head toward them, seeming to notice them for the first time. Her eyes narrowed; not necessarily in an intimidating way, but there was a calculating wariness in her emerald green gaze. Her eyes abruptly widened as her gaze passed over him, and Trunks could tell she immediately recognized him as the younger form of her fiancé.

"You…it can't be. Are you those people from the past?" she asked, looking surprised, yet highly curious.

Future Trunks nodded, then hugged her waist from behind, gesturing toward the two young men with a tilt of his head. "That's right. This is the Trunks from the other timeline that I told you about, and the other's name is Goten. They're both half Saiyan, like me. They really helped me out with those aliens. Mini me here actually saved me from severe injury, or even death for all I know," he replied, glancing over at him gratefully. _Mini me? _ Trunks couldn't help but laugh to himself at that one. _I guess I am._

Raven threw them a hesitant, but genuine smile, some of the initial distrust dissipating from her eyes. "Well in that case, I really owe you one. Thanks for taking care of this foolish man. He's a little rash sometimes, but I love him, all the same," she said, leaning back into her lover's arms. The future warrior kissed her cheek tenderly, and Trunks couldn't help but smile like an idiot as he watched the touching scene. He hoped that someday, he could find genuine love like that.

"Let's get you patched up," she uttered, taking Future Trunks's hand. Piercing eyes scanned both he and Goten quickly, checking them for injuries. His scorched hand didn't go unnoticed by her. "You look like you could use some first aid too. Come on, let's get all of you comfortable. Then you can tell us what you're doing here."

_Right to the heart of the matter. _She was straight forward, which was getting harder and harder to find these days. He liked her already.

Future Trunks and Raven led the way to the house as Trunks and Goten trailed behind them, respectfully pretending not to hear the words of love that passed between them and pointedly ignoring their brief, passionate kiss.

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Sorry this took so long guys, but I had so much to do these past couple of weeks. I had a report to write, prom to prepare for, and so on, but I don't think I did too bad. I managed to get this out in less than two weeks!

Thanks for reading the latest installment, and reviews are always appreciated.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Future Trunks sat in the kitchen of Capsule Corp., ignoring the dull ache in his side and rubbing his eyes wearily as he attempted to take in everything the two young men had just told him. It was difficult to wrap his head around all at once. First had been the story of Babidi's monster, of the creature Majin Buu and the terrible destruction he had wreaked upon the universe. That chapter alone in his friend's lives must have taken at least a few hours to explain in depth, yet he'd stayed glued to his seat the whole time, absorbing every little bit like a plant absorbed water. No matter how horrible it got, he couldn't help but file away every last detail.

As the story had gone on he'd increasingly considered himself lucky that the creature hadn't shown up here; then again, there had been no Vegeta to generate the energy needed to revive him, and no Dabura either, for that matter. Trunks hadn't been all that surprised to hear of what his father had done in order to obtain power. After all, it was classic Vegeta. He would always do anything and everything to beat Goku, even if it meant he had to turn on everything he held dear. Perhaps part of the reason had been _because _he held those people dear.

What had shocked him was hearing what Vegeta had done to redeem himself. He'd watched in slight disbelief as his young self described the scene, looking dreamy, as if he were back at the battle site with Goten and Majin Vegeta. His eyes had lit up as he repeated the words that Vegeta had said to him, and he'd smiled as he mimicked the words their father had spoken, _You've made me proud, my son._

If the prince of Saiyans, the prince of darkness, had opened his heart enough to say those words and to selflessly sacrifice himself for the good of others, then he must have changed drastically. He couldn't wait to see just how much. That same goodness had always been within Vegeta, Trunks truly believed that. Had someone finally managed to unlock his father's frozen heart?

He'd have to be even more diligent from now on and watch out for Majin Buu, even if it was unlikely he would ever manifest himself here. It would be completely unforgivable if anything were to befall the citizens of Earth and the rest of the people in the galaxy because he'd been careless. That would be a terrible injustice to all living things and an insult to Gohan's memory.

What bothered him was, that saga in the warrior's lives wasn't even the worst of it. Yet another threat had just surfaced, the reason these two young men were here; one of a very unique race they had all thought extinct was trying to use the Dragonballs in order to give himself ultimate power, and not only was he incredibly strong, he was also completely maniacal. That made him more dangerous than many of the enemies they had ever faced.

What had happened to his alternate self and his father when they'd been on planet Kanassa came as a huge surprise to him as well; he'd never known the story of what had happened to Bardock and the Kanassan race until now, and as a result of that he hadn't known it was possible to obtain psychic powers the way his young counterpart had.

He sighed softly and rubbed at his temples, feeling as if he were drowning in information, and if he was being honest with himself, he was ashamed. _I should have been there to help them…they helped me so much, in so many ways, yet they faced all that alone? I should have dropped by every once in a while just to make sure things were all right. _

It didn't matter now, you couldn't change the past. Trunks almost laughed at that thought. _Well…sort of. _

What mattered was, he could help them now, and he would no matter what he had to do. They were his friends, his family…a part of him. He would not, could not, lose them now. Never again. Those he loved would not be killed on his watch. Gohan's death had been more than enough agony to last a lifetime. Trunks still missed his friend every day, but that gaping hole, that void that he had left behind was slowly but surely being filled again; first with his new friends and family in the past, now with Raven and his unborn child.

"Brooding again?" asked the voice of his fiancé from beside him. A soft, gentle hand took hold of his chin and lifted his head so that he was looking up into her face. Those beautiful emerald green eyes he'd fallen in love with held a hint of tenderness, at the same time, a dash of cynicism. Raven sighed and sat in the chair next to him, brushing stray strands of blue-black hair away from her face with an annoyed expression. Her eyes, haunted now, locked onto his own, sharing his pain and perhaps reliving her own. Whenever Trunks had to see that tormented look in her eyes, he hated those androids more than ever.

They consumed you like a disease, a deadly plague no one could hope to escape from. As soon as they touched you, you could never hope to come away unscathed. Raven was no exception; she had suffered as much as anyone had, perhaps even more so. Her parents and her older brother had been killed trying to protect her from 17 and 18 when she was merely thirteen years old; she didn't have any family other than them. After that she'd just survived on her own. Found a job with someone who'd taken pity on her and went on with her empty life. He'd seen pictures of the way she was back then. Even in photographs she looked expressionless, almost corpse-like. The only reason she had even forced herself to live at all after that was to someday destroy those androids by whatever means necessary. She'd received the finest martial arts training she could find, trained and trained and trained, day in, day out, nothing but working and training. But to no avail…she took on the androids and quickly lost, narrowly escaping with her life and a thin, white scar.

Of course, it had taken him ages just to get her story out of her. She didn't trust easily; hardly at all, and any information about herself that she offered you was a gift unlike any other. He hadn't minded waiting though; he would have waited forever. Trunks liked to think that he helped her every day as much as she helped him. Raven smiled more now, laughed more. He liked to believe at least part of that was his doing. If he could put that breathtaking smile on her face even for a second, this life had been more than worth living.

"You couldn't have known Trunks, don't blame yourself for what you cannot change. I'm learning not to. Isn't it only fair that you learn with me?" Raven questioned, not joking in the least.

Trunks reached out and took her hand, needing the contact, and smiled. "You're right. And I am trying; I just can't help myself sometimes. You know me. What if this had happened, what if that had happened? I can't help but wonder."

"I know," she murmured, as if she understood. Indeed she did, Trunks knew that well. She blinked a few times and after a moment, stood and leaned against the counter. Next she would try to change the subject, Trunks thought to himself.

"In other news, I patched up his hand. It's burned pretty good, but he'll be fine," she said, as Trunks smiled triumphantly to himself. He could read Raven pretty well most of the time. At the same time, he was relieved. He'd known that the young Trunks's injury wasn't bad, but it was still nice to know there wouldn't be lasting damage.

"Good, I'm glad," he said out loud.

"It makes me a little uneasy though, knowing he can read our minds any time he chooses to. Didn't he say there was a way to block it? I should practice that," she finished, the last part to herself. Trunks shook his head and stood up from the table, turning toward the living room.

"I don't think we have anything to worry about. He seemed sincere when he said he didn't want to utilize it any more often than necessary. Besides, if all he had to do was go through our minds to find out about us, why did he just ask instead?"

"You're right, I know. They both seemed genuine in everything they said, but it is my nature to be skeptical, I suppose, even if it's irrational," Raven replied, seemingly frustrated with herself. "At any rate, there is suffering in both of them. The past may be more peaceful but I guess sorrow caught up with them anyway. I see the look in their eyes sometimes. It's not so different from ours."

Trunks nodded; he'd seen it too. It had been there in Goten's eyes as they'd explained Goku's most recent demise. It had been etched into young Trunks's face as the weight of the lives he could not save pressed down upon his shoulders. Once upon a time, Trunks had looked into the mirror as a child and seen such sadness in himself, such hopelessness. Perhaps it had been selfish to think so, but back then, he'd never thought it could be mirrored in any other face with such intensity. He'd been wrong. Very wrong.

There would always be differences between himself and his counterpart; their childhoods had been too different for them not to be. He'd been told by young Trunks himself that he'd been a carefree, spoiled little brat when he was young. However, Trunks could see that the gap wasn't nearly as large as it had once been. _He perceives himself as so much different from me_. Trunks could see that simply in the way he looked at him, as if he were reaching for a goal he thought he could never achieve.

"We should show them to rooms so they can get some rest. We'll need it if we're going to be fighting as fierce an opponent as Braeden. I haven't even met him and I know this is going to be intense, to say the least," Trunks said, walking through the archway to the living room. He heard Raven's footsteps follow his own into the room.

Almost instantly, he stopped short and put a finger to his lips, signaling her to be quiet. Trunks was asleep on the couch, his back turned to them. Goten stood up from the chair he'd been lounging in and pointed back to the kitchen, leading the way out of the living room.

When they were all a sufficient distance away, Goten stopped and turned to them. "Sorry, could you guys try to be quiet? He hasn't slept much lately; he's probably still trying to catch up on the sleep he lost."

"No problem. We should all follow his example anyway. We need all the rest we can get," Trunks murmured, walking quietly back into the living room and toward the stairs, the others following. As he passed he picked up a blanket from the back of the couch and tucked it around his young counterpart, who didn't stir or make a sound. No wonder he was exhausted. It couldn't be easy harnessing this new power he had, not to mention he was facing things he had never faced before, killing people, as he never had before. It must be overwhelming. Come to think of it, Trunks was surprised Goten wasn't in the same condition. Goku's youngest son certainly hadn't had an easy time of things lately either.

Trunks turned to Goten and pointed up the stairs, signaling that he should follow while Raven went back to turn the lights out, deciding to turn in herself, or so he assumed. Tomorrow, as cliché as it sounded, was going to be a big day. Trunks only wished he knew what it would bring.

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Shadows danced along the frigid stone walls of the chamber, engulfing everything they touched and stealing away all light that may have remained. Trunks, disoriented, blinked and shook his head, confused. Had he fallen asleep? He thought he'd been lying on the couch dozing just a second ago. He felt dazed, as if he were floating in and out of a strange, indescribable haze.

But wait…he knew this feeling. Cold dread twisted in his gut as he realized what was happening. Yet another vision…he was due for one.

Earth's guardian lay strapped to a steel table, Braeden standing over him, holding a sharp blade to his throat and wearing a smile that would have frozen the most horrifying villains with fear. The young guardian looked battered, bruised and very tired, but if he was afraid he didn't show it. His eyes stared calmly into the Kanassan's face; he didn't tremble or beg for his life. He didn't scream or cry with pain. He just stared unswervingly back into a pair of malevolent black eyes, daring him to kill him, to ruin any chance he had at ever making a wish with the Dragonballs. Trunks thought he could feel another presence hovering in Dende's mind, soothing and reassuring. Trunks pushed at Dende's mind, but to his surprise, something blocked him. What could that be? Or who, he should say. Finally, much to Trunks's surprised, Dende smiled, and when he spoke it was almost in a sneer.

"Do what you will, you beast! Nothing you do can hurt me now. If you choose to kill me the only person you'd be hurting is yourself. I…I'm not afraid. What's your choice? Kill me now or continue this pathetic attempt at extracting information?" Trunks was shocked, though quite impressed that Dende had this much courage in him. What made him so confident, he wondered? The young Namekian must know something he didn't. Perhaps he had unseen protection. Perhaps he simply didn't care anymore, had resolved himself to dying in order to keep Braeden from the Dragonballs. Maybe it was a little of both, but it hardly mattered. Either way, Braeden was never getting anything out of Earth's guardian.

Braeden's features contorted into that of an enraged beast, his fist clenching tightly on the handle of the blade, but he didn't sweep down with it, didn't strike the Namekian with it as he had been preparing to do. A mad gleam in his eyes, he threw the blade down with a savage growl, swiping up a straight edged razor in its stead.

"You won't tell me. Is that so, you wretch?! Fine then. That shouldn't mean I can't have fun! There are ways to hurt you without killing you. Maybe I'll kill you slowly. I'll cut you many times and in many places; you'll bleed to death so slowly, in the end you'll want to die! Then again, why should I grant you that? Death would be a gift to you at this point! I will not give you such an easy out…yes! You'll be my prisoner for a thousand years if that is what it takes! If you won't tell me, certainly one of those pitiful Saiyans will! Shall I show them despair? I think I'll do that now! They'll grovel at my feet, begging for their lives and yours. Immortality will be mine, but I need it not to kill those swine! They'll be my prisoners too! I will rule them!" Braeden threw back his head and laughed, eerie maniacal laughter echoing loudly through the chamber, emphasizing the madness of the man who let it loose.

He could hardly even keep his goals straight anymore, mused Trunks. That was proof enough that his depraved mind was sick, twisted and deteriorating fast. First he'd wanted to be all powerful when he faced the Saiyans; now he didn't seem to care if it happened before or after the fight. The only thing that was always the same was his desire for domination, his need to bring suffering and pain to everyone he touched. Decay was setting into Braeden's mad mind, and the more it decayed, the more dangerous he became. Soon there would not be even a sliver of restraint left to hold him back, and that scared Trunks more than anything else. There would be nothing but the depravity of a twisted mind, the dire sense for revenge from a violent avenger. Did he even remember why he wanted this? Trunks wasn't so sure the man could remember anything but violence and madness anymore.

What if the beast lost any and all control and killed Dende in a fit of rage, before they could save him? It was a very real possibility, and a very scary one.

Suddenly the glint of something metal caught his eye, but it wasn't one of the instruments that lay in a vast array before Braeden. This blade, the one Braeden had carelessly tossed aside, now lay concealed in Dende's hand, ready and waiting should the need arise. Dende's now trembling lips turned up into a soft, accepting smile, and whoever it was in his head seemed to rebel, but Dende did not yield. Trunks tried, to no avail, to get inside the guardian's mind once more, but still something kept him out. All he could tell was that the turmoil there was great.

Trunks watched, transfixed and horrified, as Dende tightened his grip around the hilt of the blade, preparing to end the nightmare of his own accord.

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He shot up in the darkness with a cry, gasping and sweating. Vaguely, Trunks registered that he was still on the couch where he'd fallen asleep, though someone had taken the time to throw a blanket over him. His every instinct told him to get his ass up, run to the time machine, and rush to help right now, even though he knew it didn't matter when they left; they'd arrive back in their time an hour after they'd left there. It was better, he knew, to get a full night's sleep, but he doubted he would get much now. The image of Dende, blade clutched within his hand, was raw and fresh in Trunks's mind. He knew exactly what the young Namekian had in mind. That was what scared him the most.

Still trembling, the young prince forced himself to lie back down. There were a few hours left until morning, but it didn't matter; he knew he would sleep no more this night. And so, he settled down into the couch, still and unmoving as if he were at peace. But though he could quiet his body, he had no hope of quieting his mind.

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Hi there, sorry for the delay, but I've finally updated! Now that I'll be home all day, I should be able to work on this more. As always, thanks for reading, and reviews are much appreciated.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Piccolo huddled concealed in the forest near the spaceship where Dende was being held, struggling to keep himself from cursing out loud and giving away his position. Quickly and desperately, he tightened his hold on Dende's mind, fighting against the young guardian's iron will and grim resolve, successfully immobilizing him. Piccolo could feel Dende's frustration and sense of betrayal clearly, but he had neither the time, nor the patience to risk letting him out of his mind's grasp. There was no way in hell he was going to allow that little fool to sacrifice himself, especially when it would accomplish nothing. Whether the Dragonballs were in play or not, Braeden was going to try to exterminate the Saiyans along with everything else in his path, and the two groups would clash and fight to the death. Upon his death, Earth's Dragonballs would be rendered useless, but that still didn't matter. With the way Dende had modified them, they were all but useless to Braeden anyhow.

Piccolo thanked whatever God was up there that he had thought to hone his telepathic powers more over the years. It enabled him to do many things that he previously could not. He could now dwell in Dende's mind for example, even render him immobile or take away his sense of pain.

It was a useful power, though the disappointing thing about it was, such things only worked with other Namekians; he could now communicate with Gohan and the others telepathically, but the young man's thoughts were a mystery to him, as were everyone else's.

The guardian, though he meant well, was obviously not thinking it through nearly well enough. Piccolo, through the impressions in Dende's mind, knew that the young guardian did not want to be used as a tool to force the Z fighter's cooperation. He thought that if he just killed himself and saved Braeden the trouble, it would rob the Kanassan of the Dragonballs completely and Braeden would have no hostage to use. _Too bad it doesn't matter, _he thought cynically. Even if Dende was dead, the Namekian Dragonballs would still be around; who was to say the man wouldn't learn of those? The Kanassan still could not use either set, since he couldn't speak Namekian. Dende's heart was in the right place, but unfortunately, his logic was not.

_You will not do this Dende, I'll see to that. Don't you see it would accomplish nothing? Your death would be completely meaningless! _

Dende, sounding annoyed, spoke back to him. _He's probably going to kill me anyway…I can see it in his eyes. _The young Namekian's voice trembled a little as it filtered through his mind. _Why not end it myself? You can't hold me forever, Piccolo. The minute you let go, I'll be ready…_

Damn it all, there was no reasoning with the little fool. He had to do something. Piccolo couldn't bear the thought of being stuck out here, completely useless, as the guardian died. It was foolish for them to face Braeden now, before Goten and the two Trunks' returned; he knew that. He was almost positive Vegeta wasn't going to be crazy about coming here and risking everything they had, but he had to try. Once upon a time he wouldn't have given a damn about sacrificing someone like this, even uselessly as Dende's death would be, but he was different now. Piccolo sighed softly and shook his head, beads of sweat running down his face as he exerted his full power to ensure restraint. He was a fool for even suggesting this.

It was time to report his findings to the fool who had made him so.

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_Damn it, how long has it been? _Vegeta thought to himself, impatient. A half hour, forty five minutes perhaps? It felt like about thirty hours instead of thirty minutes. He wanted a piece of the Kanassan so bad he could taste it, but instead of rushing off on his own to do just that, as he would have only a short time ago, he now recognized, if somewhat grudgingly, that he could not do this alone. One of the Kanassan yes, but not five. There was always the chance that the creep wouldn't use that technique right off hand, but it would be suicide to risk it. How humiliating would it be for he, the prince of all Saiyans, to fall so miserably and shamefully? He would not allow that.

The Prince of Saiyans spun around on his heel and paced back across the yard, glaring daggers into a tree and causing it to burst into flame, which elicited a startled cry from Bulma.

"What the hell Vegeta, I just had that one planted there to replace the last one you destroyed!" she cried in anger. Bulla however, seemed delighted by it. Far more delighted than any normal two year old would be.

Bulla giggled and clapped her hands, gazing towards Vegeta adoringly. "Daddy make fireworks!" The little demi-Saiyan continued to laugh as Bulma shook her head in exasperation, Gohan laughing in the background as he came back with a fire extinguisher.

Vegeta smiled in response to his daughter's outrageous reaction. _Perhaps she does have some Saiyan in her. _

"At least someone has good taste," he said, tossing a mocking grin toward his wife, who stuck her tongue out at him.

Suddenly Gohan stopped in mid laugh, his face instantly becoming serious and changing the mood so drastically it threw even Vegeta off for a brief second. He hastily mumbled to them, "It's Piccolo."

The Saiyan prince and the others waited tensely as Gohan stood motionless, expressions ranging from shock to fear passed over his face. He jerked his head up and looked straight at Vegeta, midnight black eyes intense.

"We have a huge problem. Braeden has been threatening Dende non stop with the fact that he's a hostage and that he will be used against us, so much so he's planning to kill himself! Piccolo has him restrained but he can't hold him forever, and he says that Braeden is getting more reckless and aggressive. He might kill him before we can get to him at this rate. We have to stop him Vegeta. I can't let Dende die. Surely we can hold him off until the others get back here, can't we?" Gohan implored, practically begging, trying to use whatever screwed up logic he held to be true. This was ridiculous! Did that fool have any idea what they would be risking for the life of a single young Namekian?

"Are you out of your mind!? Give me one good reason why I should risk the lives of all of us and everyone on this planet just to save the life of one mere boy! If we go up against five of Braeden by ourselves we won't stand a chance! I don't know about you, but I will not be so foolish!"

Gohan drew himself up to his full height, wearing an expression of complete certainty. "Maybe it is selfish to risk so much for one person, but what kind of people would we be if we just abandoned him? We have about twenty minutes until the others get here. We wouldn't have to hold him off alone for long, and Dende wouldn't have to die for any fault of ours. It _is_ our fault that demented psycho is here in the first place. What right do we have to just toss Dende to the wolves because we aren't prepared?"

"What you are suggesting is pure idiocy! War requires sacrifice more often than not. How is this any different? If he has to die, then so be it. I'm willing to risk the life of one person if it means saving our skins," Vegeta argued, glaring into the young man's face.

Gohan gazed coolly back at Vegeta, everything about him instantly becoming frigid, cold and unforgiving. "Would you be so willing to sacrifice any one person's life Vegeta? What if we were talking about Trunks, or Bulla? Would you forsake them? Would you leave them to die?"

Vegeta flinched; he couldn't help himself. He hadn't expected such harsh words to come out of the young man's mouth. What pissed him off was that he knew he was right. About twenty years ago he could have turned his back on anyone, but that wasn't completely true anymore. He knew he could never abandon his children; he wouldn't have the strength.

Despite the knowledge of this fact, he kept silent and proceeded to pace the yard once more. "That has nothing to do with this. We are not going until the others return, that's final," he stated in a highly authoritive voice, leaving no room for argument. Or so he thought.

Gohan stood his ground, shaking his head in disappointment. "Maybe you're not, but I am. I have to try. Maybe I can buy enough time for the rest of you to get ready, and to save Dende."

Coming to an immediate stop at those words, Vegeta turned toward Gohan with an incredulous expression. Was he serious? The fool! He hadn't even been able to handle one the first time around! How did he expect to face off against five of them and survive? Maybe he didn't expect to survive at all. It was probably a matter of morals or something ridiculous like that. He was Kakarot's son after all; Vegeta wouldn't be the least bit surprised if that were the case. They were a family full of fools.

"I know what you're thinking, and maybe you're right…but I'd never forgive myself if I didn't try. How could I look at Pan and Videl everyday, knowing I didn't do everything I could? How could I look at myself? I meant it when I said I will not lose anyone else I love. My father always taught me to follow my heart, and this is what mine is telling me. Even if I don't survive this, I have to try. I'm sorry," Gohan finished. He sounded resolved to whatever fate might befall him, though perhaps a little sad. That wasn't stopping him from rushing off on an impossible mission, letting his emotions rule him as always. Kakarot had always been the same. It pissed him off to no end, how they practically ran toward their own deaths. Would Gohan perish because of it, as Kakarot had? Would he have the strength to make such a sacrifice for Dende, even if, in the end, it did no good? Of course he would. He was his father's son.

_Take care…of t-them. P-Please…my friend. _Kakarot's words echoed through his mind, tearing at his insides despite how he tried to ignore it. Vegeta turned and punched a hole through the fence, growling in frustration.

_They will survive this. You have my word, Kakarot._ He'd said it in the heat of the moment; sorrowfully, foolishly, yet he'd said it, and he'd meant it. For whatever reason, his pride would no allow him to go back on the promise he'd made to a dying man.

"Gohan please, don't be an idiot! I need you here. Pan needs you here! Are you just going to throw your life and our family away?" Vegeta heard Videl say. He turned just in time to see Gohan tilt her chin up, forcing her to look up into his face.

"It's because I want to protect our family that I have to do this. I'll do everything I can to come back to you, Videl. That's a promise." He crushed his lips onto hers, uncaring about the people who watched them, and pulled her into his arms just as their lips broke apart. Resting his chin on the top of her head, he held her close. "I love my girls…I have to do right by them."

Tears ran down the young woman's cheeks as she pulled slowly away, but she hurriedly wiped them away as she looked sadly toward her infant daughter. Pan, who lay in a small baby carrier nearby, reached out to her daddy, as if she knew she may not be able to lie in his arms for much longer, and the young man went to her and took her in his arms. Vegeta watched as he lightly brushed a kiss upon the little girl's forehead, stroked her tiny cheek with one finger.

"Daddy has to go now baby. I know you don't understand, but maybe someday you will. I promise to do the very best I can to return to you and be the daddy I need to be, but right now I have to do the best I can to save his life. I love you," he murmured softly to her, as if he wished she could understand.

Vegeta growled in frustration and clenched his fists tightly at his sides. It was ridiculous; foolish to say the least, and probably a death sentence. But he couldn't do it; he couldn't stand by and let him go alone. What kind of honor would remain in him if he abandoned a brother Saiyan, one he'd sworn to protect? Damn it all, he had to go. He knew it. He felt more than saw Bulma's gaze; just instinctively knew she was looking at him, and so he turned in her direction. Sure enough, her bright blue eyes were fixed on him. There was a heavy sadness there, but understanding as well. Almost imperceptibly, he smiled in slightly annoyed resignation. Who knew he would ever turn out to be the noble type? He nodded to his wife, letting her know that she was right, but it wasn't necessary. She knew him well. That was why she wouldn't bother to try to stop him.

Gohan sighed heavily and reluctantly handed Pan off to Videl, kissed them both, then turned to look up toward the open sky. The young man sighed heavily and looked at Vegeta. "I understand. Piccolo told me this would probably happen. Take care of everyone, okay Vegeta?" Gohan stepped closer and murmured in a low tone, making sure no one would hear but him. "If I don't make it to see you guys again, please make sure my little brother is safe out there, okay? And everyone else too."

Vegeta grunted and reached up to rub his face with his hands, deciding to push forward before he could back out. "Shut up and let's go pound some Kanassan face in. You won't be dying on my watch, damn it."

The young man's eyes widened in shock and he cocked his head, making him appear as if he were a confused dog. Then his face broke out into a wide, appreciative smile as his eyes lit up with warmth. "Thanks Vegeta, this means a lot to me. I know it goes against what you really want."

The prince of Saiyans grunted and walked toward the edge of the yard, beckoning for Gohan to follow. "Whatever. Don't get use to it, boy."

Gohan laughed from a few steps behind him. Vegeta could almost see that annoying smile on his face. "Roger that."

"Daddy!" shouted Bulla, getting up to run to Vegeta. "Don't get hurted…" she said, hugging his legs. Vegeta smiled and placed his hand on the top of her head. The intensity with which he loved his children never ceased to amaze him. Not that anyone else had to know that, of course.

"I'll be fine. You mind your mother while I'm gone, all right?" he replied, and the little girl nodded enthusiastically. "Good." He gave her a gentle nudge in the opposite direction. "Now run along and play, or whatever it is toddlers do."

Bulla smiled and hastily leaned forward to peck him on the cheek, but then she was off, laughing in her own private world again, as children were often inclined to do. Normal children, anyhow. His childhood had consisted of death and destruction, naturally.

He turned his head at the sound of soft footsteps upon the grass, and was greeted with the sight of his woman striding to his side. Before he knew it, her lips were locked tightly onto his, her arms around his neck and her hands wound in his hair. He felt as if he were falling, drowning in the depths and the passion of her kiss, and he wished he could take her right there on the grass. His daughter wouldn't remember such a thing; she was too young, and he dared anyone else to say a word. He wanted her right here, right now.

It ended just as suddenly as it had begun, Bulma pulling his head roughly away from her lips. She smiled an all knowing, seductive smile that did nothing to cool his rising passion. "Sorry, you'll have to come back for that."

"Dirty little temptress," he growled, turning away and pointedly tuning out the shocked silence of the others and Gohan's hesitant laughter. Bulma laughed, sounding thoroughly proud of herself. It was annoying how easily she could manipulate him with that figure of hers…at least in the bedroom, anyway.

"Bye honey! Good luck!" Bulma shouted in a cheerful voice.

Vegeta and Gohan launched themselves into the sky, not even sparing as much as a backward glance for the people who watched down below. Perhaps they were afraid that if they did, they would turn back.

Just before he was out of ear shot, his wife's words reached his ears; faint, sad notes floating on the breeze.

"Be safe…"

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Braeden eagerly grasped the handle of his favorite blade; mind a chaotic swirl of violent anger and depraved thoughts. "Don't look so afraid, it will all be over soon! This will be fun, I promise. For me, anyway!" he shouted, on the verge of maniacal laughter as he took in the expression of the young Namekian boy. The small voice of reason he still had left told him that the boy didn't look frightened at all, but his half insane, animalistic mind didn't register it enough to give him pause.

Just as he was sweeping the blade downward, two large Saiyan power levels registered in his mind. They were ready for a fight, and they were headed straight for him.

The Kanassan's lips twisted up into a sinister smile. This would be fun. There were only two this time; oh how he would cherish ripping them apart piece by piece. He threw down the blade and rushed eagerly to the door, uncaring of the puzzled look on the Namekian's face. This would be great. The rational piece of his mind that still lingered whispered his deepest desire.

He'd ruin them as they'd ruined him.

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Hi everyone, sorry for the delay! Again. Graduation, several grad parties, looking for a job, and a small patch of writer's block later, I have finally updated. I hope you enjoyed it! Thanks for reading, and reviews are always appreciated.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Vegeta landed none too gently in front of the spaceship where he could now clearly read Braeden's power level to be. As soon as he and Gohan had powered up after leaving Capsule Corp., the arrogant asshole had done likewise, purposefully leading them straight to his hideout. He was asking for it all right, but if that was what he wanted, Vegeta certainly didn't mind obliging him if it meant he could kick some serious ass.

They _were _going to win…that was the only thought he would allow to enter his mind. Thoughts of defeat were not even allowed to pass through his brain, at least not at this point. If he allowed hopelessness to take hold of him at such a crucial time, this fight would already be over and done, and the outcome wasn't in their favor in that scenario.

"Piccolo is going to take care of Dende as soon as we engage him. All we have to do is make sure he's paying attention to us, and only us," said Gohan, already focused and completely in control of his body. To any human eye, it would appear as if the young demi-Saiyan had not changed his form at all, but they'd be wrong. Dead wrong. His hair was a bit longer perhaps, his face more confident and fierce, but such minor changes were misleading in how much power this form actually gave him. The Mystic Super Saiyan was perhaps one of the mightiest forms of them all, and Gohan could still pull it off as brilliantly as he had in the fight with Majin Buu. It seemed he'd found a new resolve, one he hadn't had the first time he'd faced Braeden alone, but Vegeta certainly wasn't complaining. Whatever he'd found in himself was obviously also helping him to claim the power he had always possessed, but had been too stupid to take hold of. That was exactly what they needed if they were to survive this mess long enough without the assistance of the others.

The Saiyan prince nodded, narrowing his eyes as a crimson blur dashed out into the forest clearing, malevolent black eyes blazing with horrid anticipation and the deepest possible madness.

"Well hello there, what a pleasant surprise! I was hoping you would pay me a visit this fine, fine day," shrieked Braeden, sounding as crazy as he looked, which was saying a lot. When Vegeta had first had the displeasure of meeting Braeden, he'd seemed rather smart; certainly much more in control than this. Somewhere along the line, what little control the Kanassan had that was keeping him together had finally snapped. _What a drastic change of character._ Though come to think of it, he didn't have much room to talk when it came to changing.

Nevertheless, Braeden had gone from controlled madness, to raging lunatic within a matter of days. Vegeta couldn't help but smirk at the sight of him now, gleefully awaiting the conflict to start. The Saiyan prince could almost feel the violent energy emanating off of the man. It was so intense, it would probably send Trunks to his knees from the pain of it. This freak certainly was a few fries short of a happy meal, as his son would say. That could be better for them, could be worse; seemed like a bit of a double edged sword to Vegeta. On one hand, his mind wasn't what it use to be, yet on the other, nothing would hold him back from annihilating them _slowly _as the man had originally wanted.

He could be completely wrong about this, Vegeta knew that, but he really didn't think killing them slowly was on the agenda anymore. Those weren't the eyes of one who could show restraint.

As if to prove his words correct, Braeden's eyes lit up with glee. "Shall we begin? I want to see how many pieces I can break your pathetic bodies into! No need to fret; I've plenty of time for both of you!" he roared, screaming as he unleashed the immense power he held in his grasp. His form, engulfed in a blackened aura, shimmered in and out of focus as it split in all directions. Vegeta turned his head away from the flying dust and debris, not wanting anything to get into his eyes and obscure his vision. When he looked back again a few moments later, he almost wished he hadn't. There among the scattered dust and leaves flying through the air, were five solid forms; each one of them was identical to the other, right down to the enormous, hate-filled eyes and the murderous baleful expression on their faces. The readings of their power levels were all the same, and were somehow just as powerful as the original Braeden had been before splitting. It was just as Trunks had said it would be, though Vegeta had expected no less.

A lesser being would have been terrified he supposed, especially as the five identical Braeden's each formed a wide, threatening smile. Instead, he smiled back, unafraid. He was the prince of all Saiyans, the last elite survivor of his glorious race. He would show this man a thing or two about who was in charge around here! No one was destroying what remained of his people if he had anything to say about it.

Just as Vegeta was about to open his mouth to tell him just that, Gohan beat him to the punch and shared some words of his own. "What happened to taking your time, Braeden? Didn't you want to make us suffer? Slow, agonizing deaths was it? This isn't very _slow _of you. I suppose you've given up on immortality too, is that right? Was Dende too tough of a nut to crack? How sad. You don't even know what you want anymore, do you? Don't worry, I'll put you out of your misery," the young man seethed. Vegeta was impressed. This was a side rarely seen in Gohan, and he had to say, he kind of liked it.

Braeden, all five in complete sync with each other, screamed in rage. "I know exactly what I want! I want you dead!"

Vegeta snorted his derision. "Hmph. We'll see about that. Come on! I'll show you what it's like to take on a real warrior!"

All seven fighters, Saiyan and Kanassan alike, roared in unison as each of them gathered their power within themselves. He almost hated to admit it, but Braeden's power was impressive. Vegeta could have taken one of them on, perhaps even two, but five? Tightly clenching his jaw, he wiped those thoughts out of his mind before they could take any solid ground within his brain. They would not fail. He and Gohan would be enough. They had to be.

"Gohan!" he screamed. There was no need to say any more than that. They were in sync with each other now, as Saiyan comrades should be.

Together the two Saiyans moved, springing into a position that put them back to back with each other as the five forms of Braeden circled them menacingly. Five minutes…ten if you counted the time it would take the others to get here. Vegeta clenched his fists and sprang into an offensive position, fired up. If they couldn't hold out for that long, then maybe they didn't deserve to live.

Without further delay, Braeden's bodies lunged inward toward where he and Gohan crouched, ready as they'd ever be to take them on. It was a little hard to tell who each of Braeden's individual forms was going after, but it hardly mattered. They were all focused on destroying the Saiyans they had encircled; they didn't seem to give a damn who died first.

Vegeta sprang forward and aimed a roundhouse kick toward two of the bodies that were coming towards him, catching one of them upside the head and causing him to fly backward into one of the others. However, the other he'd been aiming to hit had teleported out of the way to materialize behind the Saiyan Prince, and before Vegeta had time to react, a bone-shattering punch connected with the back of his skull, sending him flying forward on a deadly collision course. Vegeta spun around just in time to avoid running face first into a tree, hastily kicking off of the tree trunk and launching himself back toward his assailants. Bringing his arms back to hold his palms together, he prepared for his signature move.

"Galick Gun!" he shouted, stretching his arms outward and pushing the violet colored blast toward the body that was headed for him. He was able to dodge just in time; however it hit another of Braeden's bodies instead, one that had been locked in combat with Gohan. The Galick Gun hit him forcefully in the arm, and to the prince's satisfaction, the limb was shot straight off. Gohan shot a look of thanks to Vegeta, who shrugged and hastily dodged a ki blast that had just been hurled at him. As long as he had hit one of Braeden's bodies, he was happy. The fact that he'd helped Gohan had been a complete fluke; not that he was complaining.

The one whose arm had just been shot off glared at Vegeta with a murderous gleam in his deep black eyes. "Damn you! I'll kill you, I swear it!" He, along with two other forms, rushed Vegeta with god-like speed, leaving countless after images in their wake and giving him hardly any time to react. The Saiyan prince threw an arm up just in time to deflect an energy beam that had been aimed at his face, simultaneously managing to dodge a kick directed at his abdomen. At the last second, he remembered the third, but it was too late to do anything.

As he moved, Braeden cupped his hands in the formation of a sphere, an enormous red and orange ki ball appearing between his palms. This was the same move that had killed Kakarot. It was exactly the way Goten had described it to him before, when he'd relayed what had occurred before his father's death. Was he destined to meet the same end as that foolish, sentimental clown? _No…not me! I refuse!_

The two forms that had previously attacked him had long since recovered, and they each moved in on him, deliberately forcing him into the path the Death Shot would follow. Vegeta aimed a flurry of hasty punches at both of them, connecting a few times, but it wasn't enough, he couldn't break free of them, and the Death Shot was perilously close to ready.

"Vegeta!" Gohan shouted in the distance, engaged in combat with his own two forms, but Vegeta could not, _would not, _rely on any outside force to save him. He knew Gohan wouldn't be able to get to him in time anyway. This was for him to overcome! There must be a way! He couldn't die like this, not yet. It would be an unimaginable disgrace._ I will not allow this! _

"Not me! You'll never defeat me! A pathetic being like you could never understand a Saiyan and his pride!"

He screamed; a wild, angry sound, and unleashed his rage in an explosive display of power, engulfing the two bodies of Braeden in fiery yellow waves of ki energy. Caught off guard, the two forms were thrown backward and out of range, buying him a few seconds at least. It was better than nothing.

"Die!" he heard as he jerked his head back to Braeden's third body, just in time to see him launch the death shot on a path headed straight for him. Teleporting wouldn't do; there wasn't time. He had a mere second or two at best. It wouldn't be enough to avoid it completely, but it would have to be enough for him to stay alive!

He threw himself sideways just as it approached him; felt a searing pain slam into his upper thigh as the force of the blow and his own momentum sent him flying straight through a few of the trees that were clustered around the clearing. Countless bruises and a few broken ribs later, he finally came to a rough stop, falling to the ground in a manner that was anything but gentle. _Ugh…_. He was lucky his back wasn't broken after all of that. Gingerly, he prodded the wound on his thigh, poking past the burned flesh and through the torn scraps of cloth that still clung inside the wound. It was bleeding quite a bit…his hand came away stained with blood. Carefully, he stood up, testing his weight on the injured leg, only to grimace and come back down to kneel on one knee. He'd managed to protect his vital organs, but now he was probably going to have to hobble around on one leg. Fantastic.

As quickly as he was able, Vegeta flew back through the trees to the clearing, where Gohan was locked in combat with four of Braeden's bodies. The young Saiyan spun and whirled, blocking blows from any direction in which they came. Blood streamed down his face from a deep gouge that had been taken out of his forehead and he was sweating profusely, but impressively enough, he was keeping up with all of them. How long he could do that, Vegeta wasn't sure, but the fact that he could do it at all was a feat in itself.

Vegeta, deciding that delaying any longer would be incredibly stupid, launched himself into the chaotic fray of fighters, managing to teleport past a couple of the bodies. He materialized at Gohan's side, just in time to block a punch that had been aimed at the young man's temple.

"Where's the other one!?" Vegeta screamed, concerned over the absence of one of the bodies. It could spring out at them any second.

"Gone! When you released that wave of energy, it really crippled one of them, so I finished it off!" Gohan shouted, suppressing a yelp when one of Braeden's punches clipped him in the jaw and sent him reeling back.

Well, at least they had one less to worry about now. It was a small consolation though. They couldn't keep this up for much longer. How long had it been since this battle had begun? It couldn't be more than five minutes or so, but it already felt like far longer than that. They couldn't keep up this amount of resistance forever. If the others didn't get here soon, they were finished. Vegeta growled in anger and shot multiple ki blasts at the form of Braeden that was currently trying to lob his head off, at the same time dodging the fists that flew past his face. Accidentally, he bore his full weight on his bad leg, almost going down in the process. He caught himself at the last second, launching himself into the sky with his good leg in an attempt to switch this to an aerial battle. It would be better if he could avoid standing all together.

Together, Vegeta and Gohan managed to at least keep Braeden's attacks at bay for a few minutes, but at great cost. They were exhausted already, and the most infuriating part about that was, Braeden's forms didn't seem to be tiring much. He must have a limitless supply of ki, the bastard!

After all this trouble, that damn Namek better have gotten Earth's guardian well away from here. No way was he out here busting his ass for nothing. With increasing difficulty, Vegeta managed to match the two forms that were facing him almost blow for blow, but every so often, a punch or two made it past his defenses to strike at him and wear him down.

For the first time, he allowed himself to think about what would happen if he were to die here in this forest. It was a real possibility, one he hadn't even allowed to cross his mind until now.

_Hmph. If I must perish by his hand, I'm taking as many as I can with me! _If it came to that, then so be it. He'd gladly die if it meant he could save the Earth and what remained of his proud race. His sons were his hope; they could handle themselves, and even Goten had been showing signs of improvement. All he had to do was keep these guys at bay. Fighting was what he'd once lived for, what he'd breathed for. To a point, it was still like that. He needed it to thrive, it was so much a part of him. If he couldn't use that now, he shouldn't use it at all.

And so, he countered punch after punch, blast after blast, sweat streaming down his face and sneering at Braeden the whole way through. No matter what happened to him, Vegeta knew one thing: This bastard was finished. His sons would see to that.

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Piccolo carefully severed the last of the straps and chains that held Dende down to the cold steel table, reaching out to help him sit up.

"Easy now, don't rush it. You're pretty beat up, kid. You've been through a lot," Piccolo murmured, careful to keep his voice at a low, gentle tone. He knew the young guardian had a headache that would make the most tyrannical of rulers cry, and shouting wasn't going to help. But so help him, he wanted to throw something more than he ever had in his life! A battle was raging on outside, and he couldn't do squat to help. He knew he'd just get in the way if he tried. For now, Dende had to be his primary concern, he knew that, but it didn't stop him from worrying about Gohan and Vegeta.

The young guardian was looking up at him with wide, confused eyes. It made him ache for the kid, it really did. To be so young and have so many responsibilities piled on top of his shoulders…he knew that feeling well, and it wasn't a pleasant one. What Piccolo had to tell him now was only going to make it worse. He knew what questions were coming, but all the same, he dreaded answering them.

"Piccolo I…I don't understand. What's going on? Why did Braeden leave so suddenly?"

The Namekian closed his eyes and heaved a sigh. "Stretch out with your senses, Dende. What do you feel?" Piccolo instructed him regretfully.

Dende did as he was told, and it only took a second for him to feel what Piccolo was talking about. The young Namekian's eyes widened even more, if that was at all possible. "What…? They're here but there are only two of them! I don't get it. Why aren't the others here?"

Piccolo stared sadly back at Dende, not even bothering to try to sugar coat the facts. It was pointless to do so. "They couldn't leave you here to die, especially considering what you had planned. If Braeden hadn't killed you before they could get to you, you would have done the job. Gohan would never let that happen, and for whatever reason, Vegeta decided to come with him even though he disagreed. They're out there fighting now, holding him off until the others get here so I can take you away from this place."

The young guardian's eyes filled with tears even before Piccolo had finished his explanation, his expression stricken and devastated. Piccolo's heart tightened in his chest at the sight of it, but there was little else he could do but get him out of here right now. He couldn't let this all be in vain.

"Piccolo I…I…," Dende choked, but the elder Namekian stopped him.

"I know…there's nothing we can do now except get out of here while Braeden is distracted. We can't let this chance they're giving you go unused," he said, gentle, yet firm without being too harsh. "Let's get you out of here, all right?"

Biting his lip to keep it from quivering, Dende nodded and allowed Piccolo to scoop him up into his arms, his head slumping onto the older Namekian's shoulder in exhaustion. He was emotionally and physically drained, but who could blame him? They all were.

Before he could change his mind, Piccolo crept out the back exit of the spaceship, concealing both his and Dende's power levels so they wouldn't be discovered. He had to force himself not to look back as he sped away from the site.

_Stay alive you two. There are too many people who need you for you to die on us now._

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Done, at long last! What can I say? It takes me forever to come up with fight scenes like this.

Thanks for reading, as always, reviews are appreciated.


	17. Chapter 17

_**Author's Note: **_Hey everyone, thanks for sticking with this! Before getting on with the story, I'd like to reply to an anonymous review left to me.

To jdawg5073. First of all, I'd like to say I'm glad you shared your full beliefs and opinions with me. I always encourage that. However, that being said, I believe I should explain a few things to you regarding your comments. First of all, you want to know what has happened with the two Trunks' but you obviously weren't paying enough attention because the entire last chapter was filled with the tension of waiting and stalling long enough for them to arrive to help with the fight. It's called keeping your readers on the edge of their seats. You say it seemed rushed to you, and yet at the same time you wanted me to cram the two Trunks' in the last chapter as well? That's a bit of a contradiction. If I had tried to cram their arrival at the fight, Gohan's mysteriously returning powers, or any of the other things you mentioned into that chapter, that my friend, would have been rushing it, which is why I chose not to do that. It would have screwed up the pacing.

Also, you want to know exactly every circumstance and working of Braeden's powers, which is understandable, but you have to understand something. This story is written in the third person limited point of view, meaning the reader only knows what the character whose point of view it is written in, knows. Vegeta does not know if all of the Braeden's are real, nor does he know if they each have a separate mind. He does not know any of the answers to the questions you are curious about, therefore, neither do you, at least until I write it from the POV from someone who does know.

Anyway, I'm so sorry for such a long author's note but I wanted to make sure he understood. On with the story!

**Chapter 17**

The twin time machines, identical in all but color, descended from the sky to land with a loud thud in the back yard of Capsule Corp. where Trunks could see his family and friends waiting for them. No death, no destruction…as far as he could see, everything was all right, which was a relief to him somewhat, but he couldn't help the nagging feeling that he was missing something.

Oh well, no use sitting in here brooding about it. They were wasting time. The sooner they got rid of Braeden the better, and now that they were all together, he knew they'd prevail somehow. Besides, he'd been toying with a few ideas for the past day or so. If he could manage to put into effect even one of the things he could be capable of, then the fight might at most be over quickly, and at least may give them a slight advantage.

Trunks reached forward and tapped a few buttons on the console in front of him, causing the glass bubble over their heads to pop open. Quickly, he and Goten climbed out of the time machine, Future Trunks and Raven following suit from their own machine. His older self had protested to her coming at first; he knew she would probably try to get in on the fighting and he didn't want to risk her getting hurt, but in the end, they had settled on a compromise. She would stay out of the fighting as long as he didn't get himself hurt. The minute she felt that he was in trouble, she would come running. Future Trunks hadn't much liked that idea either but in the end, he'd let it lie.

The second he was out of the time machine, his mother rushed toward them, obvious anxiety written all over her face. With rising apprehension, Trunks looked behind her to see Videl standing off to the side, a look of sadness adorning her face as she cradled Pan in her arms. Where were his dad and Gohan? Somehow he doubted they were lounging around in the house. Something was wrong, really wrong, but she forced a smile and went to his older counterpart, wrapping him in a heartfelt hug. "It's great to see you again, Trunks. Ah, I see you finally found yourself a girlfriend too," she said, adopting a light, teasing tone that seemed a little bit forced. She threw Raven a shaky smile, who frowned, no doubt seeing right through Bulma's shaky façade. "I wish we had time to visit and catch up more, but things have gone from bad to worse."

"What do you mean, mom? What's going on?" Trunks asked, fighting to keep the anxiety out of his voice. Bulma turned to him with anguished eyes, and suddenly he dreaded hearing her answer. She went to him and took him gently by both arms, sliding her hands down to take hold of his hands.

Trunks briefly bowed his head, then grudgingly looked back up to ask the question that he hated to ask, dreading the answer he might get. "Where are dad and Gohan? Why aren't they here? Don't tell me Braeden attacked already!"

His mother sighed sadly. "No, but he might as well have. He was going to kill Dende, and even if he hadn't Dende would have done it himself. He didn't want to be any more of a burden to you guys, and he was tired of being a pawn! He was afraid that if Braeden kept him for any longer, that you guys would get hurt because of him, and he didn't want that. Piccolo told Gohan what was going on, and there was no stopping him. He couldn't let Dende die while he was just standing around doing nothing. Your father…he wouldn't let him go alone. He'd never say it, but I know it's because he didn't want to break the promise he made to Goku. Deep down he's an honorable man," she finished, a far away look coming into her cerulean eyes.

Trunks hastily stretched out with his senses, searching for the familiar power levels he recognized to be his dad's and Gohan's. After a few seconds of searching, he found it, along with four others…all with identical power levels which were a significant amount above both Vegeta's and Gohan's. There were suppose to be five of them, but maybe they had defeated one.

He could tell just from the power readings coming from the area that they were giving it all they had against Braeden, but clearly their best wasn't enough. Their power was declining fast, while Braeden stayed almost completely the same. _Shit…_they had to get over there now, before it was too late. At this rate though, it felt as if they would be too late no matter how fast they flew.

Goten met Trunks's eyes, Future Trunks doing the same. Each one of them knew the situation, had felt it.

"They're in big trouble. We have to leave now if we're going to stand any chance of making it in time," his future self uttered grimly, fists clenched in much the same fashion as Trunks's own were. He opened his mouth to reply, but gasped instead as he felt a huge chunk of his father's power go flying out the metaphoric window.

"Damn it, there's no way we'll get to them in time at this rate but we have to try!" Trunks shouted in desperation, wild with fear. _Not him…not him._ He knew it was selfish, but all he could think at this moment was, _Not my father. Please, not him_.

Trunks gathered his energy, preparing to spring into the sky, when suddenly Goten jumped toward him, grabbing his shoulder to stop him from flying off. "Wait a second guys," he said, looking slightly unsure of himself. He bit his lower lip as if he were contemplating something, then seemed to force himself into a decision.

"What the hell is it, Goten? We're wasting time!" Trunks shouted in a voice laced with so much desperation, he almost winced. So much for cool and collected.

"I…I can get us there. We don't have to fly," his friend murmured, with a shaky kind of determination.

Trunks felt his eyes narrow as Future Trunks gave the young man a skeptical look. What was he talking about? This had better be damn good if they were wasting this much time talking about it. "What are you talking about? What other way is there?"

Goten nervously shifted his feet, but he did look them both in the eye as he spoke. "Well uh…when dad and I were in space, he was trying to teach me instant transmission. I'm not very good at it yet, but if I concentrate hard enough I think I can do it. I might screw it up, but I figured the risk is worth it if we can get to Vegeta and Gohan in time. I have to at least try it," he finished, standing up straighter and squaring his shoulders.

_What? Seriously? _He couldn't believe his luck! Trunks had always cherished Goten as a friend, but he didn't think he'd ever loved the younger boy as much as he did right now. He knew it was a little early to be celebrating anything; nevertheless, he couldn't seem to stop his face from breaking out into a radiant smile. "Goten, you're a life savor! What would I do without you, man?" he questioned happily, only half expecting an answer. Now maybe they stood a chance of everyone getting out of this mess alive. If it weren't for his best friend, sometimes he thought he'd go crazy.

Smiling, Goten chuckled, any doubt leaving his face completely. "Go crazy, maybe?" At Trunks startled look, he chuckled again. "Hit the nail on the head for once, I guess," Goten teased.

Future Trunks turned to Raven, and she scowled, already knowing what he was going to say. Crossing her arms over her chest, she looked stubbornly into his eyes, resisting his words before they even came. "Stay here Raven, please. You're no match for Braeden, and you'll be safe as long as you're far away from him."

The fiery human woman narrowed her eyes, looking rather annoyed. Her emerald eyes glinted with anger. "I'm not the stay at home and be safe type, you know that," she uttered harshly, but her voice softened as she murmured, "What if you get yourself hurt out there? I won't be there to help you."

"I'll be more likely to get hurt if you are there," he replied, quickly turning his head to the side as he said the words, causing his unruly lavender locks to swish back and forth in front of his face. He looked as if those words had hurt him as much as, if not more so, than they had hurt her. Raven jerkily stepped back, looking as if he'd physically slapped her. The rigid exterior she wrapped herself in slipped, and her face fell. For a second or two Trunks thought he could see a different side of her, the part of herself she always hid behind a carefully constructed mask. But she pulled it together and then it was gone, leaving her looking resigned, yet strong, an electric current of inner strength flowing through her veins. Suddenly, her expression dissolved and became one of tenderness as she went to him, forcefully turning his head so he had to look at her.

"Fine…" she whispered reluctantly. "I understand. You're probably right anyway. You're such a worry wart, I'm sure you'd be too concerned about me to pay attention to the fight. I'll do my best to stay out of it, but promise me one thing." Raven stopped and looked away, trying to hide the tear drops that had entered her eyes. "Come back."

Future Trunks took her face in his hands, bending to her forehead to press a gentle kiss. "I will. I promise you." Slowly, his counterpart turned away, walking at a steady pace back to where he and Goten waited, Goten already with his fingers to his forehead as he tried to find the right location. Without any further hesitation, Trunks grabbed onto his friend's shoulder, Future Trunks doing the same.

"Be careful, you three!" Bulma shouted from a few feet away, Raven and Videl by her side. Trunks felt sorrier for them than he did for himself and the others; the women who chose to stay by their sides through everything, always watching from the sidelines as the ones they loved rushed into battles they may or may not win. He'd hate being that helpless; being left behind.

The three Saiyan hybrids powered up as far as their limitations would allow, Trunks and Goten to level one, Future Trunks up to level two; no use wasting precious time by conserving energy. They were going to have to give it everything they had from start to finish if they hoped to win.

"Okay…come on where is it…," Goten muttered to himself. His eyes were closed in deep concentration, his brow furrowed. Suddenly, the muscles in his face relaxed, and he smiled softly. "Wait, there! I've got it! Okay you guys, here goes nothing. Hope we get there in one piece." The young man laughed it off, but Trunks could tell he was genuinely concerned about his ability to pull this off. _No time to worry about that now. This is the only way. _

Besides, even if they did get there in one piece, there was no guarantee they would stay that way. He knew better than anyone that they just may not get out of this alive. Trunks forced himself to smile and wave to his mother, but he couldn't bring himself to say the words he had prepared for her. _Don't worry mom, we'll be fine! We'll be back before you know it. _It sounded perfect in his head, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to lie to her. How could he tell her that when he wasn't even sure of it himself? It wouldn't be fair.

Hesitantly, his mother raised her own hand to wave back, looking mortally terrified, as Videl did the same, only marginally less afraid. Raven stood so rigidly next to them, Trunks thought either she would stand straight and tall for the rest of her life, or she would break under the pressure, just like a tree that refused to bend in the wind. For a minute, Trunks thought she would stay that way until they were gone, but at the last second, she forcefully raised her own hand to bid them farewell before they teleported out of sight.

Immediately when they rematerialized, Trunks saw two things that he swore he would never forget in his entire life. One: All four Braeden's were surrounded by a malevolent black aura, so evil it almost knocked the breath right out of him. They stood menacingly around the clearing in a circle, trapping the two Z fighters between them. Two: His father was sprawled out on the ground underneath one of them, who grasped the Saiyan prince's throat with one hand and beat him continuously, ferociously in the face with the other.

Gohan was fighting with all of his might to get to Vegeta, but all of the other bodies of Braeden worked as a unit to keep him away, beating him back and forth, this way and that, so he had no hope of reaching the Saiyan prince in time to help him. If one jumped forward, one fell back. If one flew to one side, another sprang to the other side. It was interesting, how they knew each other's every move. He'd have to look into that later; he couldn't think right now. Despite his efforts, the panic was eating away at him.

"Father!" he screamed in unison with Future Trunks, not meaning to, but he didn't care about that at the moment. They had to get to him! In a rush, Trunks stretched out with his senses, immediately able to feel the emotions swirling around him. His face broke out into a cold sweat as the full brunt of Braeden's evil aura engulfed him, forcing him to bite back a groan and ignore the churning in his stomach. He had to push a little to access the Kanassan's mind; he had a pretty strong natural barrier, which was to be expected since he had lived his life around others of his kind.

"You are mine! Mine, mine, mine! At my mercy at last!" Braeden roared in the voice of a madman. The raw, uncontained madness he sensed in the Kanassan now startled him. He had been much more controlled before. Apparently that had somehow gone out the window sometime between today and yesterday.

Wasting no time, Trunks frantically teleported to his father's side, feeling Future Trunks and Goten following suit along with him and narrowly bypassing the bodies of Braeden that were clustered near Vegeta. Without hesitation, he tackled the Kanassan head on, succeeding in pulling him off of his wounded father. Far across the ground they tumbled, rocks and tree branches scratching at his arms, his legs, his face, anything that came into contact with the clearing floor. Attempting to stop his deadly skid across the ground, he stretched his legs, succeeding when his foot caught a stray tree root that stuck up from the dirt. He threw a right hook straight at Braeden's face, and to his surprise, connected quite easily.

Despite the fact that he had just been punched full in the face, Braeden grinned, looking like a child who has just scored a point in a video game. After a second, Trunks caught what he was about to do, but it was one second too late.

Braeden's power exploded in a horrific, red-orange flash, blinding Trunks and sending him flying back to the other end of the clearing. With a scream, he crashed straight into a particularly large boulder that was conveniently located straight on the path he'd been sent flying through, forcing him into a painful halt. _Shit…shit that hurts…_

"Trunks!" shouted Goten from near him, he couldn't tell where. He was too busy trying to get his head to stop spinning, and concentrating too hard on _not _throwing up. Unexpectedly, he felt someone's hand settle on his shoulder, and before he knew it, he was being shaken. Given his present injuries, it really hurt; it wasn't helping his spinning head. Forcefully, he pried his eyelids open, only to discover a blurred, sideways vision of Goten's face dancing before his eyes. For a second, he thought he'd lost it, but after squeezing his eyes shut for a moment and breathing deeply, he opened them again to find that it made more sense once he could actually think. He was lying on his side, with his back to that stupid boulder he'd run into. How was his back _not _broken? The wonders of being a durable Saiyan, he guessed.

"Ouch…" he muttered, getting his hands underneath him to push himself up. Sharp jolts of pain slammed into him from his scorched skin, to his aching back, right into the turmoil of his mind. That terrible energy was getting to him; how could anyone be so evil? How in the world had he become this way? If Trunks hadn't been pissed about almost being blown to bits, he might actually feel a little sorry for the guy.

Goten took him gently by the shoulders and helped him sit up, a concerned look marring the features of his face. For the first time in longer than was healthy in the middle of a battle, Trunks allowed himself to take in his surroundings, and was slightly surprised to find what they were.

Luckily enough, he'd landed in the midst of friends instead of foes. Gohan stood right next to Goten; his face, though exhausted, also had a certain edge to it, an intensity that normally wasn't there. _Mystic form, _Trunks thought with surprise. He hadn't seen it since Gohan had fought Super Buu all those years ago. There was a newly discovered, inner confidence, a force of will powering the young man, giving him the strength to believe in himself and his power. Gohan had finally been able to awaken his powers again because of this new found strength, no doubt brought out by his father's death and the events afterward. Trunks was extremely grateful for that, because the huge power boost it gave the man was greatly needed at this point.

With his older counterpart's help, Vegeta was limping toward where he, Goten and Gohan were. His face was a bloodied mass of raw wounds, and the waves of painful suffering flowed off of Vegeta like a waterfall, making it impossible for Trunks not to feel it right along with him. Finally, the two Saiyans made it the rest of the way across the clearing to them, Vegeta being eased down to the ground in front of him.

The prince of Saiyans spit out a mouthful of blood, gasping for breath. "I now know the meaning of just in the nick of time, better than ever," he uttered, managing to twist his mouth into a sarcastic smirk. "That certainly didn't tickle, but at least you fools decided to show up before he knocked my head off of my shoulders."

Trunks, deciding that was as much of a thank you as they were going to get, grinned. "Glad to be of service, _your highness_," he replied, voice dripping with playful sarcasm. If Vegeta still had this much fire left in him, he should be just fine.

"Disrespectful little ingrate," he muttered, but as he said it, he smiled softly. "Good job. That was an impressive tackle, I'll give you that."

With a pensive look on his face, Future Trunks stared at his father and crouched down next to him, as if he was trying to figure out what it was that he saw. After a minute, he smiled hesitantly, but not before being greeted with an annoyed glance from Vegeta. "What are you looking at?"

Instead of repelling him as it had probably been meant to, it only cause Future Trunks to grin even more. "Oh, nothing. It's just that you seem…different."

Vegeta's face reddened a little, and he turned away. "Hmph. I'm the same as I always was, besides the fact that I'm even more powerful," he said, scowling at a nearby tree. Future Trunks threw a knowing glance at him, seemingly happy. His older self had told him that he'd always known Vegeta had a good heart, but it must be nice to see that manifest itself a little more.

"I don't understand. Why isn't he attacking us?" Gohan questioned, his eyes following the forms of Braeden that were now clustered together. They stood in close proximity to each other, obviously generating even more power to use against them. "They already have more than enough power. Why do they need more? What could they be planning?"

Everyone else was instantly brought back to the situation at hand, each Saiyan tensing up and looking toward their enemies. Only one thing to do now; it was time to find out exactly how these guys worked. Closing his eyes, Trunks stretched out and pushed through the barriers surrounding the minds of their foes, wasn't all that surprised to find that most of them weren't thinking much. He took his time to sort through their minds. Each copy had basic instincts in order to function on their own, such as breathing and movement, but they couldn't function well without the original Braeden. He kept an eye on the foes they were facing, and directed his copies accordingly. If someone was coming toward one of them to land a punch, they were warned ahead of time by the original Braeden. Without him, the copies could not come up with strategies or anything of the sort; they would just attack wildly, going solely on their primeval instincts. His body and power was duplicated in them, but not his mind. Since technically, all of the copies were identical to himself in body and power, he could direct all of their minds with his own.

Though his own mind wasn't all that stellar anymore either; Braeden was just a step away from being as wild as an untamed animal, but apparently he retained enough of his sanity to direct a battle.

Finally, he withdrew slightly and opened his eyes, reaching up to knead his temples with his hands. It was hard being in such close proximity with that monster. He looked up to find everyone else staring at him expectantly. Of course they knew what he'd been doing. Hastily, he pushed into their minds and flooded them with the information he'd just learned; it took less time that way, though the more he did such things, the more exhausted he got. He'd have to be careful from now on when and how he used his power. Each of the Z fighters gasped almost in unison as they received the information that would be vital to their survival, startled by the unexpected invasion.

There was no telling when Braeden would finish powering up and coming up with a basic battle plan for his copies to follow, so Trunks didn't want to take the time to explain it out loud. It wasn't much of a plan though, from what he could feel. Mostly it was just violent anticipation, and a wild intent to literally rip every last Saiyan apart.

Trunks smiled sheepishly, struggling to ignore the ferocious pounding in his head. "Sorry guys. That was the quickest way."

"Uh…no big deal. Kinda cool actually," Goten chuckled, seeming the slightest bit dazed. Trunks supposed it would be shocking, having someone enter your mind like that.

"So, we have to take down the original one, right? We'll need to all work together if we want to be able to get to him," Future Trunks mused, his cerulean eyes bright with hope and determination.

Careful of the wound on his thigh, Vegeta painfully staggered to his feet. "And how do you propose we do that? Surely the original one will be the most protected since he's so terribly important. Any bright ideas?" he asked, his gaze sweeping over all of his comrades.

Immediately after his father, Trunks pushed himself to his feet, beaming. He'd been toying with this idea along with a few others for about a day now; he wasn't sure if he would be able to do it for long, or very effectively, but he was damn well going to give it a try.

"I've got one," he announced brightly, eliciting a few puzzled looks from the others. How could he sound so happy at a time like this, they wondered?

It was time they knew what he had in mind, so they could put it into effect immediately. If all went as he planned, this battle should be as good as won. Braeden could direct his comrades in battle, simply by the use of his own mind.

Why couldn't he?

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Longer than I thought it would be, but I'm sure you guys aren't complaining. I'll try to get the next chapter out earlier than normal; I know how you all hate to wait XD. Thanks for reading, and reviews are always appreciated.


	18. Chapter 18

_**Author's Note: **_Okay, I lied. It's not early XD. What can I say? I can't force it, or it turns out bad. I have to do this at my own pace.

I have broken 100 reviews, and it's all thanks to you guys! You're all awesome! Anyway, on with the story!

**Chapter 18**

Trunks grinned, spurred on by the puzzled looks of his comrades and his own confidence.

"It's simple. Kind of like an extreme case of monkey see, monkey do. No pun intended," Trunks said, smiling even wider when Vegeta rolled his eyes and Gohan slapped his hand over his face. Goten made a slight choking sound and turned away, as if he was trying _very _hard not to laugh, while Future Trunks just shook his head and smiled, unsurprised. Goku's eldest son gave an exasperated sigh.

"Can we please get serious here? Imminent doom is still looming overhead, in case you guys forgot," Gohan replied with an air of slight annoyance, gesturing with his head toward where the four remaining Braedens stood powering up; more out of rage than for anything else. They were looking increasingly agitated, pounding their fists together and staring toward the Saiyans, an identical, murderous gleam mirrored in each of their eyes, though only one pair held a slight spark of intelligent thought.

Trunks held Gohan's gaze, being careful not to accidentally capture him with his power. Of course he was thrilled with his plan, but apparently, it was coming across the wrong way, and he didn't want anyone doubting him at this point. In order for this to work, they were all going to have to have complete faith in him.

"I am serious, completely serious. Trust me, if there's anyone who knows how big of a situation this is, it's me." Trunks sighed softly, though it wasn't a mournful sound. It was more akin to disbelieving wonder than anything. Looking back on it now, he had to marvel at all of the things that had happened to him within this short period of time. These events had changed him so much. A couple of weeks ago, his biggest concern had been trying to get his dad to raise his allowance, maybe finally beating the Prince of Saiyans in a genuine fight. Now he was thinking up schemes on how to save his family, while harnessing newfound powers, wild and foreign even to a warrior race such as the Saiyans. Those other trivial things were so far from his mind, he didn't think he'd ever care about them again. He almost felt like laughing at the abruptness of it all. He was a changed man; stronger somehow, more confident. Misplaced or not, he could feel it in his bones. He was going to follow it, even if it led to his death. He wanted them to understand that, needed them to understand that. Maybe if they did, they'd believe in him as he was starting to believe in himself. Considering all that he had to accomplish for this plan to work, it probably would kill him, but that didn't matter to him anymore. If he was fated to collapse and burn out as the stars themselves, then so be it; he could deal. Trunks smirked softly. _I am the Prince of all Saiyans. _And like his father before him, he knew what he had to do.

"From the beginning of this whole mess, I always felt like I was just stumbling along, desperate to catch up and do something worthwhile. I felt helpless, overwhelmed, even worthless. It was as if no matter how hard I tried, I wouldn't ever be good enough; I couldn't be good enough to make enough of a difference. I almost gave up…but you know what? If I just lie down and die, if I don't give it all I've got, how will I ever know if it would have been enough? I don't know about all of you, but I'm not gonna spend the rest of my life asking myself why I didn't try. I'm giving this everything I have, even if it's all for nothing. Even if it kills me! Who's with me!? Will you follow me, even if it means we're all doomed if I fail?"

Vegeta smirked, somehow appearing to be the picture of strength and confidence. His face was bruised and bloodied to a pulp, but it didn't matter. To Trunks, he was as proud and regal as he'd ever been. "Do you really have to ask?" he questioned mockingly, pride for his son radiating off of him in waves that Trunks had no choice but to feel. He smiled as he caught his father's eye, silently thanking him for supporting what he did, even though the Saiyan Prince didn't know what it was he had in mind yet. It meant a lot, especially considering all they'd been through together.

"You know my answer. After all, I am you," Future Trunks replied, flashing his young counterpart a grin that made his bright blue eyes dance with mischief. He looked toward Trunks with a soft expression of endearment, as if he were addressing his very own little brother. "We are more alike than you know. I'd be proud to follow you into battle any time. Don't forget that."

Gohan too stepped close to him, before Trunks even had the chance to fully absorb the kind words he'd just been given. "Trunks, if not for you, Vegeta, and this whole conflict, I might not have ever grasped the true power I held within me once again. I suppose a part of me was afraid…afraid of what I could do if I had it and what I would become. But your courage in embracing everything that has happened to you really inspired me. I know you don't realize how much you've influenced me within these past couple of days, but you have. Of course I'll follow you. It's the very least I can do," Gohan explained with warmth, brushing his shoulder briefly as a sign of affection.

Next was Goten, eyes bright, looking as if he would burst with the words he had to say. Not that that was unusual for him. "You know it. I've learned more during this whole thing than I have in my whole life, I think. What's happened to us all if horrible, but I guess I had to grow up somehow. When I was forced to, well…I was scared. Terrified actually, but…I figured, it's better than all of the shit you have to do!" he shouted, laughing as his onyx colored eyes danced in merriment. He sobered slightly, though the smile never strayed from his face. "But seriously man, you helped me realize that maybe I am worth something. If you can deal with all of the shit that's been piled on you and still be okay…maybe I can too. I'm in, no matter what! I'll make my dad proud, and you too Trunks!"

He couldn't believe this…there was no way he was hearing them right, because it sounded like they believed in him. Really, truly, believed in him! His father was proud of him. Future Trunks, the unstoppable lone warrior, had said they were alike! Gohan held him responsible for helping him find his lost powers; even his best friend, who was always giving him a boost up whenever he needed it, was thanking _him _for making a difference in his life. All of these people he admired so much…they were all putting their faith in him. It made him want to cry, but now wasn't the time. He would show them that their pride was justified; that their faith was not misplaced.

"All right then everyone, listen up. Here's the plan," he stated, making sure he had their undivided attention before he went on. Quickly, and mindful of the ever growing power coming from the direction of the bodies, he described to them a part of what he had in mind. He would keep watch on all of the enemy's movements, and project them into the minds of his comrades. That way, everyone would know the moves their opponents would make before they even made them, and they would be able to avoid any blows headed their way.

Once his explanation was done, and everyone had confirmed that they understood, Trunks looked to them and was thrilled to realize that everyone seemed to like this plan very much.

"This is perfect! We are going to beat him so bad! Yeah!" Goten shouted with excitement, exchanging an optimistic high five with Gohan.

Vegeta laughed haughtily, throwing a look of disdain over his shoulder toward their foes. "Perfect, he won't know what hit him. Why didn't I think of this in the first place?" he questioned, though he didn't seem to be expecting an answer. He was just thrilled he would get the chance to pay them back for the rearranging they'd done to his face.

His older counterpart was the only one who looked slightly concerned, though it wasn't about the plan. With eyes that were all too knowing, he pierced Trunks with a painfully astute, yet uncertain gaze. "Are you sure you can do all of that? It has to be exhausting. I'm afraid you'll wear yourself out and get hurt. I want to defeat him, but not at the cost of your own life."

Trunks smiled softly, appreciating his kindness, but he knew it didn't matter. He _was _going to succeed in this, even thought it probably would end up being too much for his body and mind to handle. He knew he wasn't experienced, or all powerful in any way. He wasn't infallible, and he certainly wasn't perfect. Even now, his head was pounding, almost spinning from the evil aura emanating off of the depraved Kanassan beings. To be honest, he knew that even if he did succeed in what he set out to do, he probably wouldn't walk out of this alive. Part of him was terrified…after all, he couldn't expect to look death in the face and not feel anything, but if he had the power to stop any more people from getting hurt, he would put his inner cowardice aside and face whatever came his way like a man. Even death. His dumb little fears didn't matter anymore. Saving the lives of the ones he loved was much more important to him.

"Don't worry about me, I can handle myself. You guys just make sure you follow my directions, and you'll be fine." Trunks swallowed past the lump in his throat, pressing on. He had to slip this in as if it were no big deal, but in truth, it was exactly what he feared would be his downfall. He couldn't let them know that, of course. They'd never let it happen if he did, and this part of the plan was more vital than anything. "By the way…make sure you do whatever possible to get the original Braeden to look me in the eye. I'll let you know which one it is, so don't worry. From there, I'll handle the rest." Once Trunks had him, chances were, he would have to focus his full attention to locking Braeden down, so he wouldn't be able to direct. However, by that point, Braeden too wouldn't be able to project anything to his copies either, which would render them even more savage than wild animals. The others should have no problem picking them off then. All he had to do was hold on long enough for them to do that.

Vegeta narrowed his eyes and pierced him with a soul searing glance. "Don't be reckless. With how evil that beast is, there's no way you could stand to be so intimately in his mind as to lock him into place with that gaze of yours for very long."

Trunks gave a cocky, unconcerned chuckle, one he thought sounded convincing enough. "Come on dad, have more faith in me than that. I'm not stupid. I wouldn't hold him long enough to kill me. I don't wanna die you know."

"If it becomes too much for you, stop it so we can finish him off the old fashioned way. Once his copies are gone, it should be easy enough anyway, so there's no need to be such a hot shot," Vegeta replied, authoritive.

Trunks hoped he was right, but he couldn't shake the feeling that the prince was wrong…dead wrong. Abruptly, he felt a little bit like screaming, but instead he formed his mouth into a wry grin. "Could you guys please stop clucking over me like chickens? I'll be fine, okay? Let's do this. Besides, our little friends are getting impatient."

Future Trunks, still looking troubled and less than satisfied, nodded hesitantly, the three others following suit. Trunks glided past his comrades to stand at the head of the group, Vegeta stopping immediately on his right to rest his hand on his son's shoulder. "Don't be stupid, and try to stay out of the way. If you're concentrating on us all the time, you're bound to forget all about yourself. We're here to back you up, so don't worry." His father smirked, seeming to enjoy some private joke. "Lead us to victory. I'm willing to pass the torch if it's to you, but only if I get to destroy him for deciding to renovate my face without my consent."

Trunks watched as the Saiyan prince jerked his head back toward where Gohan, Goten, and Future Trunks stood a step behind them, and the prince zeroed in on his second son's face. "Try to avoid highly lethal energy beams this time, if you don't mind," Vegeta said, in a voice that suggested he really didn't give a damn if his future son minded. He sounded fierce, almost protective, though that Trunks noted without surprise. "I don't really feel like having to lug your body all the way to Namek so I can wish your ass back again."

Arching a golden eyebrow, Future Trunks regarded Vegeta with amusement. "I believe that was Tien who had to drag me back to the lookout, not you, so why are you complaining?" By the way his eyes were dancing with secret delight, the future warrior already knew why; he just wanted to see Vegeta's reaction for himself.

"Hmph, I don't know. After all, it's _so _much fun watching your son be blasted through the chest right in front of your eyes. I really _must _see that again sometime," he ranted with heavy sarcasm. "Why do you think? Moron…"

Future Trunks merely smiled, which only served to annoy the disgruntled prince even more. "Whatever you say…dad."

At that, Vegeta raised an eyebrow in slight surprise, but to his credit, he said nothing. His counterpart was normally more formal, calling him father, but it seemed the warrior had decided differently now; with good reason. How could he not, after seeing Vegeta so changed from when he'd known him before? Trunks had heard the stories of the ruthless, heartless man his father had once been. To see this transformation in him must really be something. The thought brought a smile to Trunks's face.

An explosion of power, startlingly strong even in comparison to what Braeden had displayed so far, burst from the four bodies in a flash that startled all of them back to reality and fully to the situation at hand. As a unit, the four rose and sped toward the waiting Saiyans, who all raised their power immediately to meet the coming threat. Trunks braced himself and stretched out with his senses, enveloping Braeden's mind within his own even more ferociously than he ever had before, and wincing in renewed agony as his consciousness came into contact with the Kanassan's.

It was so unexpected, Trunks was completely unprepared for it, and it hit him even harder because of that. Braeden's mind recoiled and abruptly slammed into his own, forcefully shoving Trunks out of his head and bringing him down to his knees. He staggered quickly to his feet, not even giving himself time to think before he pushed back into Braeden's mind again. It was a contest of wills more than anything else…Trunks pushed and shoved against the surprisingly powerful defenses, beads of sweat tracking down his face as he gasped for breath. Somehow the Kanassan knew he was trying to get into his mind, and he wasn't going down without a fight.

_No, not now. Not when we haven't even started yet…._Giving up when they hadn't even begun was out of the question. Stomach protesting, head reeling, Trunks forced out a powerful shove, shattering the defenses of the original Braeden's mind and leaving the Kanassan crazed and angered.

"Who are you? Who's doing it?! Are you mocking me!? You are just like all of those other disgusting people! All of those beasts, who call themselves Kanassan! Everyone always forcing their way into my mind, mocking me, ridiculing me! I've had enough of it!" he roared, letting loose a savage cry that rang across the clearing and through the forest beyond. Trees swayed and shook; rocks trembled across the ground, as if they feared what would happen if they stayed where they had lain strewn across the clearing. Braeden stood among it all with the three copies around him, minions of the dark deeds spawned by their master, as they were. Deep red scales gleamed malevolently in the light of the sun, adding an extra demonic air that somehow managed to enhance the creepy effect even further. Spittle flew from where it had collected in the corners of his mouth, and the look in his pitch black eyes was one of such empty madness, it struck Trunks like a physical blow. The sane part he could still detect of the Kanassan's mind whispered of soft memories, spoke to Trunks, whether it meant to or not.

"I think you seriously pissed him off," Goten murmured unnecessarily, sounding frightened, but Trunks could hardly concentrate on his words, they seemed so far away.

He saw it now…he could feel it, even through the faint whisperings of this broken, twisted man. Deep down, he'd always hated the people of his race as much as he'd hated the Saiyans. Perhaps he hated the Saiyans, merely because they'd indirectly helped feed into the hatred that had spread among the Kanassans; the very same hatred that had no doubt affected and twisted Braeden into what he was. Trunks could clearly hear what he wanted to say: _They are no better than what I've become…_

Before he could stop it, Trunks felt himself being pulled farther and farther into the depths of Braeden's mind, but surprisingly enough, he didn't find it threatening. It seemed to beckon him onward rather than using force. He knew he should be alarmed by whatever was happening to him, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. He felt dazed, lost in a vortex of memories that were not his own…almost as if he were in a trance.

Colors swirled and flashed in front of his eyes as the landscape of the battle site began to distort and take shape into someplace entirely different; a planet that had only just begun to shatter, engulfed in the crimson flames of death and war. A petite Kanassan woman, with scales the color of a summer sky and rich black eyes crouched behind the remains of a downed building, fires still dancing faintly around where she hid. Panicked, she scurried agilely across the ground, making sure her body was huddled completely over her child. A red scaled Kanassan boy with his mother's black eyes crawled across the land beneath her, desperate to avoid the Saiyan invaders who had come to destroy their people.

All around them, buildings crumbled and fell, the smell of burning flesh so thick and suffocating in the air Trunks felt like he was living it too. The woman shrieked and backed away just as a chunk of a skyscraper came crashing down where she had been crawling a second before. She sighed, and wiped her arm wearily across her face, smiling weakly down at her son. The little boy looked up at his mother, eyes filled with a child's fear. Eyes so innocent, Trunks found it shocking that this small, frightened little boy had once been Braeden.

In a breath filled with despair, the woman grabbed her child's hand and rushed onward, now seeing the hidden entrance to the shelter looming mere feet in front of her. Trunks could feel her fear, could smell it as thickly in the air as he could smell the decay of flesh and blood. So intent was she at getting to the safety of the shelter, she wasn't paying attention to the crashing around her until it was too late. With a scream, she jerked back as another gigantic chunk of debris came flying toward her, but she was a second too late. It crashed down onto her leg before she could get out of the way, pinning her to the ground so effectively, she couldn't hope to move from that spot. The debris was too heavy to move even an inch.

"Mother!" screamed little Braeden, desperately tugging on the debris, trying to push it off of her.

The woman sighed and looked upon her son for the last time, unshed tears burning beneath her eyes. "Go now, there's still time! Run just a few feet forward, and you'll find the shelter. You'll be safe once you get there, I promise," she murmured softly, caressing his cheek with a gentle, shaking hand.

"But I can't go! Not without you!" he cried, but before he could say anything more, she abruptly froze. The child didn't understand why, but Trunks could hear what she heard. The great Saiyan ape was headed straight for them; on the path it was going, they would both be crushed if they stayed there. A dark shadow descended on mother and child, looming there threateningly for a few seconds before it began to close in and surround them.

Without another thought, and with resolve Trunks admired, she threw her son as hard as she possible could in the direction of the shelter, successfully getting him out of the way and saving him from the terrible fate she would endure. She would suffer, but she had succeeded. The foot of the great ape came down to smother her, she with a sad, triumphant smile on her face.

"Nooooo! Mother! Mother, no, no!" cried Braeden, in such a broken voice, Trunks couldn't stop it from breaking his heart. He couldn't be anymore than five years old. The little boy's mind was even more of a mess than he was on the outside.

She had been all he'd had. What was he going to do without her? Everyone made fun of him when she wasn't around. Mother didn't care that he couldn't do the things she could do, but now she had left him all alone.

Braeden wailed to himself in loneliness and despair that a child should never have to express, crumpled on the ground as the vision faded and changed before Trunks's eyes.

As his vision came back into focus, and when everything stopped spinning, Trunks appeared to be in a bunker of some sort. It had to be the underground shelter that had been created by the Kanassans, or so he assumed.

Sixteen year old Braeden sat by himself on a bench in the makeshift park of the shelter, picking at the globs of whatever food he'd set in front of him. The teenaged Kanassan knew it didn't matter. Whatever it was, he wouldn't be able to eat any of it.

He dreaded walking the halls, dreaded every waking moment when he had to be in the company of those who never stopped the torment. His mind had been violated more times than he could count, he'd been beaten black and blue; only after they'd immobilized him of course, adding insult to injury by using a power he could never have himself.

"Hey there, freak. How's the abnormality today?" asked a voice he loathed with every fiber of his being. Feron thought he was so brilliant, with his dashing emerald scales and enormous psychic power. Everyday it was the same; he and his goons would do anything and everything to make his life a living hell, and he supposed it was time yet again.

"Do you ever give it a rest? Don't you have lives other than to make mine a living hell?" Braeden screamed at them, beyond all reason. With a cry, he lunged forward toward Feron and the four Kanassans who flanked him, hands outstretched and formed into claws. He was right there, his hands ready to tighten around his throat, when he felt the inevitable; the invasion of his mind.

He tried to fight it, tried to push him out, but it was too late, he was frozen in place. Silent screams rang inside his head as he suffered, immobilized. They wouldn't even allow him the simple luxury of screaming his frustration and rage. How many times had it been now? He'd lost track long ago.

"What's the matter, can't move? If you ask nicely, I promise I won't even touch you," mocked Feron, for he knew Braeden could say nothing. He'd disabled his ability to speak as well.

The emerald scaled Kanassan sneered in glee, eyes shining. "All right, if that's what you want." Without further delay and with great, horrific happiness, the Kanassan and his four henchmen beat him mercilessly, savagely, in the face, the stomach, arms, legs, anything their fists would hit. Time merged and blended together until he had no idea who, or where he was anymore. His eyes were swollen shut already, but he was thankful for it. That way, they wouldn't see the tears threatening to escape his eyes.

He'd pay them back someday…he'd murder them all, no matter what it took. They'd pay for what they'd done to him. His thoughts of vengeance were all that comforted him as he sank into darkness.

With a startling jerk, Trunks was taken back to his reality, right back to where he'd started and technically where he'd been standing since. Apparently only a few seconds at most had passed, because everything and everyone was as he'd left them…strange, how such things worked.

After the attack of the Saiyans, if there had been any decency in Braeden, it had been wiped clean by the hatred of his kinsmen, the ridicule he'd endured because he was different. The visions he'd seen probably hadn't even been a fraction of what he'd gone through in his life. He could never read minds as everyone else could, and so in the end he would be damned for it.

It was sad, but it couldn't be helped now. Nevertheless, Trunks found himself wishing there was something he could have done to stop the things that had happened to this man. Seeing the monster that Braeden had become encouraged him that the only thing to do was to put him out of his misery. Trunks narrowed his eyes and crouched in a fighter's stance, as resolved to his fate as ever.

"I'll destroy you, Braeden. For all of us."

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Part of my goal for this chapter was to bring more light to Braeden's character. I really want people to understand just why he is the way he is, and how he ended up that way. He is horrifically evil yes; but you all need to understand why and how that is.

Anyway, thanks for reading, and as always, reviews are appreciated.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

Black thunder clouds rolled across the sky, the occasional lightning bolt dancing from one point to the next, creating an atmosphere that was appropriately ominous. Trunks and the others crouched in fighting positions, shocked as they watched Braeden bellow his rage to the heavens. So powerful was his voice, it was creating turmoil even in the weather itself. Just a while ago, it had been clear blue skies; now everything was so dark and dreary, Trunks had to fight his own protesting mind in order to stay focused. Even the surrounding trees cast eerie shadows.

Their main source of light were the flashes of lightning that lit up the landscape every few second; their background noise the booming thunder, mixed with the screams of the red scaled Kanassan. A tumultuous storm to match the turmoil swirling inside Braeden's mind, and whatever was left of his heart. A little too convenient if you asked him. Maybe Braeden still had a sense of humor buried somewhere; or maybe he really was just a crazy psycho involuntarily creating a thunder storm. Trunks smiled an ironic smile. He was darkness, they were light. It was all very _basic_. Why had he expected any different?

Trunks made sure his senses were stretched as far as they would go, double checking to see if he was inside all of the minds of his friends. That way, he could alert them of what to do within a split second. He deliberately paid no attention to their thoughts. That wasn't the point of being inside of their heads.

Finally, after what seemed a painfully long time, the original Braeden, the broken leader, ceased his screaming and slowly dropped his head to look at them. Unfortunately, he wasn't looking straight at Trunks, or he would have trapped him then and there. Oh well. That would have been a bit too easy anyway.

The half mad Kanassan didn't even offer up one of those creeper smiles he always seemed to save for them. He just looked fed up, pissed off and, well…half mad. Maybe more. A bolt of lightning struck the ground behind Braeden and the four bodies, lighting them up and exposing the menacing gleam in Braeden's eyes. _Yeah, definitely more…_the young Saiyan mused. Trunks was used to that being there, but somehow it seemed worse now. Maybe that was because he'd seen how the same eyes had once looked at a different time.

They stared each other down; Saiyan versus Kanassan, sanity versus insanity. The tension was so great between them, Trunks felt that they would all probably explode from the force of it if they didn't soon let it out. Abrubtly, the young prince felt what he'd been waiting for; a flash of decision from Braeden and the silent signal for his bodies to strike. Just as hastily, Trunks projected the course each body was going to take directly to his comrades. And so it began. As nervous as he was, he was glad for that.

In a blur of speeding flashes, Braeden charged forward toward the center of their group, his bodies following suit. Thanks to Trunks, the Saiyans already knew that, of course. Smoothly, they moved as a unit; Goten and Gohan circling the group of Kanassans from the left, Vegeta and Future Trunks from the right. Trunks teleported out of the way of the charging Kanassans and directly behind the others, where they had come up behind their adversaries in order to spring a surprise attack. The Saiyans all readied attacks of their own, two Kamehameha waves, a Galick Gun and Buster Cannon each aimed at the back of one of the forms. Braeden and all of his bodies spun around, attempting to block the ki based attacks coming their way, with varied success. One unfortunate body's arm was shot off as he threw it up to deflect the blast; another lost a significant chunk of flesh from his abdomen. There may have been more hits, but Trunks couldn't tell…he was too busy trying to separate their pain from his own.

Trunks clutched his stomach and struggled to stay on his feet, shocked by the added pain that coursed through his body. Damn it…how was he supposed to know that the bodies felt pain? He'd found out the hard way…he could feel every blow his comrades and the forms of Braeden took on as if he'd been hit himself. Trunks cringed as another blow connected with one of the body's heads, trying to breathe and get his head back in the game. He needed to focus.

He forced himself to look back up and take in the sights of the battle, but was greeted with yet another shock. Apparently, he'd been closer to the actual fighting than he'd thought. Vegeta stood over him, fighting off one of the Kanassans who was so close to him, Trunks was forced to admit to himself that while he'd been distracted, the bodies had deliberately come after him. Had Braeden somehow figure out that he was the one with the psychic powers? Probably.

Taking a shaky breath, Trunks wiped the sweat from his brow, pointedly ignoring the hasty glances of concern thrown to him by his comrades. He didn't have time for this…_I have to…urgh!_ He gritted his teeth as Goten was struck in the jaw, making him feel as if he had been too. He had to endure it. Just a little longer…he had to hold on at least until this battle was over or close to it.

With a resolve he was surprised he could feel under the circumstances, Trunks sifted through Braeden's mind, warning Gohan of the ki blasts that were coming at him from behind, while at the same time telling Goten and Vegeta they should expect surprise company to teleport in front of them. Future Trunks was about to get hit by a left hook in the back of his head, but Trunks quickly informed the elder Saiyan of that. Increasingly exhausted, yet increasingly determined as well, Trunks kept on like that until he lost all track of time, warning them of all blows coming their way while at the same time defending himself when one of the bodies happened to get past the others who were trying to shield him. It was almost impossible work, and even working as hard as he could, he still didn't catch every single move in time to warn everyone at once. It was enough to prevent them from being hit very much, but they still couldn't avoid everything. It didn't help that each blow dealt and received was yet another to add to Trunks's growing collection of agonizing pains.

Breathing heavily and trying to stop his vision from blurring, Trunks ducked down and in a sweeping motion, kicked one of the bodies legs right out from underneath him. Simultaneously, he subtly directed Vegeta away from a stream of ki blasts that were being fired at him. He winced when a few connected straight into the prince's stomach, but luckily, most were avoided. Nevertheless, the damage was done. Each punch, kick, ki blast, or any kind of blow added to Trunks' s pain. Pretty soon, it would be more than he could take.

_Damn it all, I can't do this for much longer._ He'd been waiting for an opportunity to trap Braeden the whole time, but as of yet, no luck. How long had this been going on? It had to be close to at least ten minutes or so. He was going to have to try harder to trap Braeden, or he may become so weak, he wouldn't have the strength left.

Just as he was about to gather the strength and concentration to jump into the fray, the triumphant cry of the Saiyan prince rang out among them, and before Trunks could register anything else, his eyes took in the sight of Vegeta's arm as it sank straight through one body's chest. Before his eyes, the Saiyan pulled his arm out in a hasty backward motion, taking with him a stream of blood and guts that sprayed out upon the ground.

Until now, Trunks had been able to endure the pain without a sound any louder than a low moan or a groan, but he didn't stand a chance against this. The horrible sensation of his guts being ripped out of his chest sent him plummeting to his knees, and after that, there was only one thing left to do. He screamed. He couldn't help it. It was the most horrific physical agony he had ever felt, and Kami did he wish it would end. If he was going to die, let it be this moment. Please, please let him be released from this misery before he went out of his mind with it.

Trunks was vaguely aware that shadows fell upon him, but he didn't know why, nor did he care at the moment. He couldn't bring himself to move, could hardly bring himself to draw breath. Everything hurt. Trunks hunched over and retched until there was nothing left to purge, making him feel even more like a gutted animal than ever.

The battle was still going on…he couldn't give up yet. Kami, he wanted to, but he couldn't…they needed him. Trunks literally had to force his head up in order to see his surroundings. All four Saiyan had clustered very closely around him, Future Trunks and Vegeta crouched at his side, defending themselves when need be but mostly trying to see if he was alright.

Vegeta's expression was wild with worry and intensity, Future Trunks's one of slight fear, maybe a little regret too. He'd probably known from the start that something like this would happen.

"What the hell are you thinking? Why didn't you tell us that you would feel every single thing any of us felt? That's what's happening, isn't it?!" Vegeta screamed as he blocked punches and kicks, finally succeeding in blowing away the body that was trying to get to them.

Trunks spoke in such a weak voice, he almost wished he'd kept his mouth shut altogether. "I…I didn't realize it until after we started but it doesn't matter. You need my power…I have to take it…urgh!" Trunks doubled over and groaned as Gohan was punched, _hard_, in the stomach.

"Stop it, that's enough! You've done enough! Withdraw from all of us now, before it's too late. You can't take this anymore!" Future Trunks shouted, sounding slightly panicked.

Trunks suppressed a pained whimper and pushed himself shakily to his feet, Future Trunks grabbing his arm to steady him while Vegeta kept all attacks aimed at his son away from him. His head bowed in weakness, he caught sight of what should have been the contents of his stomach…instead most of it was deep red blood. Not a good sign. He had to wrap this up now, while he still could. If he still could.

_All of you! Get him to look at me! He needs to look at me, now! I don't care what you have to do, but at least help me get to him. He's the one to the right of the others, hurry! _He projected into their minds, indicating the original Braeden for them as well. Despite whatever situation they were in, each warrior all risked hasty glances at him, Vegeta completely dropping what he was doing to stalk over to where his sons stood.

Trunks narrowed his eyes, anticipating an argument. Judging from his dad's expression, he wasn't very happy about Trunks's present condition, and he didn't want to risk it getting even worse. He knew Vegeta meant well, but he didn't have the time or the energy to deal with this. "I know what you're going to say Dad, don't bother. The sooner I can trap him, the better. You guys will be able to finish him and the copies off while I hold him in place. The shorter this battle is, the better it is for me and all of you."

Vegeta, scowling, clenched his fists while Future Trunks let loose a low growl, each an act of frustration. Nevertheless, the two warriors teleported directly to Trunks, surrounding him in a protective cocoon of sorts.

"Let's go then. I'm tired of this. If it will end this battle and settle your pain, then I'll risk it. Just make sure you don't do anything too stupid. If you can't do it, you can't do it. Don't you dare kill yourself trying," Vegeta ordered, sounding every bit like a lord giving orders to his subjects.

Future Trunks frowned, looking increasingly unhappy about this situation, but rather than pull away in refusal, he hovered even closer to his younger counterpart. "Okay, I'll go along with this but only because it's the best chance any of us have for survival. You'd better not push it too hard though, I mean it. I swear I won't forgive you if you sacrifice yourself for us. I've had enough of people sacrificing their lives for me!" he bellowed, clenching his teeth painfully together.

Trunks forced himself to form his mouth into a confident smirk, not quite sure if it had the effect he wanted. Even moving his mouth hurt him now, but it couldn't be helped.

"All right guys. Let's go!"

With a thundering cry, Vegeta, Trunks, and Future Trunks all fed as much power into their battered frames as they could manage, which admittedly wasn't much on Trunks's part. They rushed forward toward where the original Braeden fought, Goten and Gohan staying ahead of them, following the plan and coming to circle around behind Braeden. They were trying to block him as much as they could; attempting to force him in the direction Trunks and the others were headed toward.

Trunks zigzagged around the copies as they tried to mow him down, Vegeta and Future Trunks coming up in front of him to shield him from attacks. Did he really look that worn out? Probably. He felt so weak, it was pathetic.

Finally they made their way to where Gohan and Goten were struggling to keep Braeden near enough for Trunks to approach. Luckily, they succeeded. Soon enough, the copies were upon the two brothers and they had to fight them off, but it didn't matter. Trunks was standing a couple of feet in front of the depraved Kanassan now, so close, if either one of them took a single leap, they would be upon each other.

"Hey Braeden, over here! You wanted to know who was getting inside your mind, right? Well, here I am!" Trunks shouted, wasting no time. There was no need to be subtle anymore. The Kanassan already knew it was him anyway. However, instead of looking up at him as he'd hoped, Braeden simply stood still, staring at the ground as if he saw something fascinating lying there. Perhaps whatever logical part of his mind was left was trying to stop himself from playing into Trunks's hands. The being stood there shaking, obviously trying to resist the urge to look into the young Saiyan's eyes and jump him mindlessly.

Trunks took a breath and sighed, wincing as Gohan was hit yet again in the stomach, conveniently in the same spot as before. The young prince clutched his stomach in agony, but somehow he continued to hold his head erect, despite the fact that part of him wanted to curl up, give up, and die. He was going to feel terrible about this later, but it was the only way to ensure an immediate reaction out of Braeden. He would have to use more dirty tactics; hit him where it hurt.

"Hey there, freak. How's the abnormality today?" Trunks sneered, doing his best to sound exactly like the emerald scaled Kanassan who had played a part in Braeden's descent into darkness. Those were words Braeden would never forget, no matter what state of mind he was in. His stomach churned and protested even more than it had been already, but it was for different reasons this time. He was exploiting whatever humanity Braeden had left in order to the save his comrades, and he hated himself for it. It was for the best for everyone, even Braeden himself, he knew that. That knowledge didn't make it any easier for him to pick at Braeden's mental scars, but what choice did he have?

At least it wasn't in vain. Braeden had been hanging by a thread, just barely resisting the urge to look up, but those words, so familiar and horrifying to him, did it. As soon as the words had flown out of his mouth, Trunks knew he'd won. The last of the Kanassan's control slipped through his fingers and he snapped, and though deep down he most likely knew what would happen once he completed this action, he simply couldn't stop himself anymore.

The Kanassan, or whatever manner of creature he had become, whipped his head straight up and glared into Trunks's eyes, and he swore it gave the phrase, "if looks could kill," an entirely new meaning. Those terrible black eyes, a sad, horrific shadow of what they had once been, pierced straight into his own, blazing with madness and a deep seated hatred. It chilled him as much as, if not more than ever, and it seemed to seep straight into his soul. As connected with Braeden's mind as he was at this moment, he didn't have to guess what he was thinking. _He isn't looking at me. He's looking at Feron._

Knowing he didn't have much time to make this work, Trunks dove headlong into that evil abyss before he could even think about hesitating, withdrawing his power from everyone else and focusing everything he had on this one final task. He focused everything he was and more, every bit of power he had at his disposal straight into paralyzing this powerful creature that stood mere feet in front of him. As he'd expected, it was no easy task. That was probably the understatement of the century.

Braeden's fractured mind, now trapped within Trunks's, frantically pushed and pulled against the young Saiyan's powerful grasp. Even in the state Braeden was in now, there was still a certain sense of animalistic fear in him from being trapped within his own mind, unable to escape. To him, it was no different than the countless times it had happened to him in his youth. Trunks had him pinned tight, but the cost was almost more than he could bear.

Trunks grimaced and struggled to breathe, feeling as if he was just barely keeping his head above water in an endless abyss of torment. Maybe he was. He had to resist the urge to crumple onto the ground in despair; Braeden's despair. He was feeling everything the Kanassan felt, but Trunks supposed he shouldn't be surprised. If he felt everything physical that happened to those he was connected with, he would most certainly feel every mental pain as well.

At that, his thoughts froze abruptly. _Wait a second…_ If he could feel every single thing that anyone felt while he was connected to them…what would happen once the others killed Braeden? If he was this deeply connected with Braeden when that happened…._No_. He couldn't go down that road now. There was no turning back for him.

Braeden stood rigid, frozen in the exact same posture as when he had first looked into Trunks's eyes. As soon as he'd become trapped, the others had sprung right into action. The copies, with no one to guide them, stumbled about as if they were nothing more than animals, striking viciously, yet sloppily at the four Saiyans. Before their movements had been precise and accurate, but now they had no more control over themselves than the leaves had over where the wind carried them. On second thought, perhaps these copies were lower than animals. Even animals had more restraint than this.

He couldn't really move his eyes away but in his peripheral vision, Trunks could vaguely make out the sights of the battle. He saw one of the copies go down after a ferocious decapitation. He didn't see who'd done it, nor did he care. It was taking all of his concentration just to keep Braeden in check. He may not have been psychic, but he was still formidable, even in mind. Fear was a dangerous and powerful thing; it pushed many people to intense heights. Braeden slammed wildly into the barriers Trunks had erected in his mind using his own, weakening him more significantly than he'd thought possible. If the insane Kanassan kept this up, Trunks wasn't sure how long he could hold him for.

Time passed; slowly but surely. It could have been minutes, hours, days; he honestly didn't have much perception of time at all. Colors blurred and swam before his eyes, his severely battered mind just barely holding Braeden's in check. The strength of a mad creature such as this was remarkable. The fact that he had already been weakened before he'd done this wasn't helping his case.

Copies fell; one after another. It wasn't without injury on his comrade's parts of course, but it was done easily enough now that the imitation Braedens had no coordination with each other. Finally they had fallen. All that remained was to take care of the final threat. The thought would have made him smile, if he'd had the strength.

All four Saiyans, battered, bloodied, and worn, appeared near where he and Braeden faced off. Though things were all but wrapped up, none of them relaxed.

"What happens now? We just kill him? It's that easy?" Goten asked, sounding skeptical.

What were they just standing around talking for? It had to be done, _now! _Couldn't they see he was hanging by a thread here? If Braeden was released, there was no telling what would happen. Judging by the raw rage and fear built up inside of the Kanassan, he would most likely explode immediately. If that were to happen, they'd all be going with him. Trunks couldn't let them all die, but he couldn't keep this up much longer either.

Future Trunks, as astute as ever, looked straight at him rather than at Braeden. How this guy seemed to know so much about Trunks's inner feelings was beyond him. Maybe since they were technically the same person, they were more deeply connected then they could imagine. "What happens to you once we kill him?"

"Forget it. It doesn't matter, you have to do it…now! I can't…urgh!" Trunks forced out, dangling precariously on the edge. He was really, really close to panicking; there was no way he could keep this up.

"Someone, anyone! I can't hold this anymore! He'll blow himself up if he gets free, and he'll take all of us with him! It has to be now!" he pleaded. Trunks appealed to the only person he knew would do as he asked. At least, he hoped he would.

"Dad, please! I'm begging you! Just do this for me! For us! Please!" He felt bad about playing the "do this for me," card, but there was no choice; he couldn't tell him the truth in the short time he had, and it probably wasn't a good idea anyway. If the truth was what Trunks suspected, no one here would be able to carry out the task.

Vegeta stepped into his line of vision, head held high and standing tall. At least, as tall as he could stand given his present injuries. Despite his outward appearance, Trunks could see even from a distance that he had the most torn, pained, look in his eyes. He hated to be the one to put it there, but he had no choice. Did his father get it? Could he know what might happen if he were to deal the blow that would end Braeden's life? As he took in Vegeta's tortured expression once more, he knew that it was very possible. Braeden slammed again and again against his mind; as Trunks felt it start to fracture and break, he screamed a last, desperate plea.

"Do it now!" It was all he could manage. No matter how hard he tried to hold on, he felt control slipping through his fingers the same way water flowed from a cupped pair of hands. There was no stopping it. He was, physically and mentally, at his limits.

As soon as he was sure it was over, the most wondrous thing in the world happened. As demented as his own wonder at violence should have seemed to him, right now it was his salvation. Vegeta, with the roar of a pained animal, extended his hand and drew forth a shining blade of ki energy, quickly aiming and firing straight into the Kanassan's blackened heart. It was done so hastily, Trunks knew that Vegeta had forced himself to do it before he could change his mind.

They screamed simultaneously, he and Braeden. As the blade of ki energy pierced through, Trunks felt the stab just as deeply as the Kanassan did. Inside and out, his world was rocked with pain, but still he rejoiced. No matter what fate befell him now, it was over. This whole, disgusting mess was finally over. The ones he loved could live in peace, though he wasn't sure he could say the same about himself. That was all right. He'd come into this battle ready and willing to die if need be. _I'm sorry…it looks like I'll be sacrificing myself after all._ Future Trunks would be torn apart because of that, but he'd be okay. He had Raven to stand by his side.

Trunks felt himself fall heavily to the ground, and try as he might, his mind, which had been ready to fracture and break free seconds before, could not seem to untwist itself from Braeden's failing consciousness. Suddenly he was falling in more ways than one, drowning in a mysterious, darkened abyss. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to find his way out again. Wherever Braeden was going, Trunks seemed to be going with him. It was nothing less than what he'd expected. He hoped his dad and the others wouldn't blame themselves. He just wanted them all to be happy. Maybe now that Braeden was gone, they could be.

A faint whispering sounded within his head, the vague remnants of a voice dying on the wind. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but just before he felt himself fade completely into nothingness, he could have sworn someone whispered:

_Thank you... I am free._

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Ugh. I'm such a terrible person. It seriously hurt me to write this chapter. I felt every bit of Trunk's pain right along with him. He may technically belong to Akira Toriyama but I'm borrowing him at the moment; therefore, his pain is my pain.

Stay tuned for what comes next! This story isn't over yet. As always, thanks for reading and reviews are appreciated!


	20. Chapter 20

_**Author's Note: **_Greetings, my faithful readers! I'm back for another chapter. Just want you to know, I am backing up just a little in order to show things from Raven's point of view as the fight is concluding. What does she feel? How does she react? Now you'll see. It's necessary to do it this way, and I'm excited to be exploring my OC a little more by giving you guys a walk through her mind. On with the story! Hope you enjoy it.

**Chapter 20**

Left foot, right foot, turn, left, right, turn. Over and over again; a nervous habit she'd never been able to break. Raven repeatedly stomped a path into the grassy yard, pacing while keeping her full attention tuned towards the Z fighter's energy signals. She never should have agreed to stay behind. If she'd gone too, there might have been _something _she could have done to help them. Anything was better than dying of nervousness as she stood by twiddling her thumbs and doing nothing. All that she loved was being threatened, and she was powerless. Again. It always happened that way. Her family had been completely annihilated in front of her eyes, but she could do nothing. The androids continued their rampage throughout her shattered world, and despite how hard she'd fought, she could do nothing. The same thing had a good chance of happening here to this world, and what was she doing? Nothing. It made her feel so weak, so…useless. She hated it.

"Raven, sweetie? Come over here and sit down, you shouldn't be stressing yourself out like this in your condition," Bulma called hesitantly, attempting to calm her, she assumed. She'd told both Videl and Bulma that she was pregnant. What else was there to do? Besides, she had to do something to try to keep herself sane. Idle chit-chat would have to do.

"How can I relax when I know how hard they're fighting out there? It would feel wrong to me," Raven replied. She had to keep moving somewhere, anywhere. Even if she was only circling the yard, at least she wouldn't be standing still. That just might push her over the edge at this point.

_I act so tough, but inside this is me. A complete mess…what a joke._ She was striving to better herself more and more every day; with Trunks by her side, how could she not try? For the first time in a very long time, he'd made her feel like she was worth something. He always did; every single day.

What was she doing here? Why wasn't she with him? She could defend herself, couldn't she? The only thing holding her back was that faint possibility in the back of her mind…the thought that Trunks could be right. Would she just be in the way, and endanger him? She didn't know anymore, but she would never forgive herself if she didn't try to find out. She couldn't just stand back and hide behind the men forever; she was going to that battle field. At the very least, she could just conceal her power level and observe from a distance. _After all, I don't have just myself to think about…not anymore,_ she thought, resting her hand tenderly upon her still flat stomach.

Ironically enough, before she could take off, she felt something shocking that just might justify her taking off after all. An extreme downward spike of power was coming from the younger Trunks. That wasn't good. Raven furrowed her eyebrows and concentrated, concerned. He was losing power all right, and fast. Technically, she hadn't known him for long, but she liked him. She couldn't say she fully trusted him; it was in her nature to be hesitant to trust, but she certainly didn't want anything happening to him.

That was the last straw…she was out of here.

"I'm going on ahead toward the battle field. The least I can do is stick nearby in case I'm needed. There might be trouble," Raven warned, with no intention of going back on her word. Bulma and Videl gazed anxiously back at her, apprehensive.

"Why? Has something happened?" Videl asked, sounding slightly fearful.

Raven looked away, unable to meet the eyes of the women, especially those of Bulma. She didn't want to be the one to tell her that her son could be in mortal danger. She wanted to confirm it first. She had to see.

"I'm not sure…that's why I have to go. I'll come back when I know more. You two just stay put," she said, gathering her ki energy beneath her. She raised her hand against the protests she knew would come, not able to waste any time for them. "Don't worry, I'll be fine. I'm not letting anything harm my baby."

With that she launched herself into the sky, blue-black hair breaking out of her loose pony tail to whip around her face in a wild mane. Her emerald eyes glinted as she pinpointed the location, altering her course in order to head toward the battle. There had to be something she could do for them…at the very least, she would be able to say she was ready and standing by to lend whatever skill she had, or simply a comforting hand. She hoped the latter wouldn't be necessary…another tragedy might be more than she could bear.

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Piccolo raced across the sky with Dende at his side, the guardian recovered enough to fly on his own. After the pair had escaped Braeden's spaceship, they'd stopped so Piccolo could tend to Dende. Luckily for them both, the young Namekian had recovered his senses enough to heal his own wounds.

To Kami's lookout they went, though every fiber of his being wished he could turn the other way to help with the fight. They were only about five or so minutes away…if he just switched course he would be headed back the way they'd come. Piccolo scowled and gritted his teeth, knowing he could do nothing even if he did make some pathetic attempt to pitch in. As much as it hurt his pride even to think this, he knew he would probably just be a liability.

Glancing to his right, Piccolo took in Dende's expression and knew the young guardian was probably thinking the same things as him. That wasn't surprising; the young Namekian felt extremely guilty for forcing the Z fighters to initiate the conflict sooner rather than later. What did surprise Piccolo was what happened next…Dende stopped, and without another second's hesitation, turned around to look back toward the battle site. The look in his eyes was a hardened one; more intense than Piccolo had thought him capable of. It shook him that this once innocent boy could have such a haunted look in his eyes.

"Do you feel that? Trunks is losing power…he's not doing well at all. I can sense his pain. It's been like this for far too long. Something is seriously wrong," Dende murmured. He turned his body fully to face Piccolo, and the elder Namek obliged him by doing the same. As he stretched further out with his own senses, he knew Dende was right. This wasn't good. Was the strain of what he had to do proving too much for the young Saiyan to handle?

"I sense it too," Piccolo finally replied, turning his head yet again to look back the way they'd come.

"I have to go back. With my healing powers, I'm sure I can help him, and the others. Piccolo, please… I don't want to hide anymore. If my planet is in danger, I have to pitch in to help in any way I can! No matter what that monster does to me…it's my duty," Dende declared. There was a slight waver in his voice which betrayed his fear, but Piccolo was all the more proud of him for overcoming it. He couldn't deny that the boy's words were true, nor did he really want to deny them. He would be going against his own gut feeling as well if he did.

"You're right. Come on, what are we waiting for? Let's go, but we'll hang back all right?" Focusing more closely on the distant power levels, Piccolo was enthralled to find that Trunks's power wasn't the only one decreasing. Braeden was down to one form, and he was losing it. "Hmm…by the time we get there, this just might be over. If we're lucky, anyway."

Dende smiled, but it seemed hesitant. "Then let's hurry. Once I get there, I can heal everyone. Then we can all go home. I hope it's that easy, but I'm anxious. I feel as if something bad is about to happen…."

The elder Namek sighed, trying to no avail to dismiss Dende's fear as nothing but nonsense. That was one thing he could not do, even if he tried; Piccolo couldn't deny that he felt the same way.

"We'd better go then. Hopefully, we'll both be proven to be pathetic little worry warts." No matter how many times he told himself that, he couldn't seem to make it stick.

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Blood, destruction, carnage everywhere he looked. Vegeta crouched on the ground in the middle of it all, not caring about how horrendous his surroundings were. The most horrific sight of all was cradled in his arms, unresponsive and unmoving. Was he dead? He couldn't be dead…that would mean he had killed him. No matter how hardened he was, the thought that he may have ended his son's life was terrifying to him.

He'd been aware of the possibility, but what else could he have done? Let the son of a bitch break free, killing them all in a fiery explosion? If he hadn't killed Braeden right then, the results would have been disastrous. He had felt that himself, even without Trunks telling him so. As soon as his younger son had been questioned about his own fate, the look in his eyes had told Vegeta the truth. Those cerulean eyes had been filled with grim acceptance, yet also with a pleading fear. He'd wanted Vegeta to go through with it no matter what…even if it would be the end of him.

Even so, he'd had to force it…Kami, how he had to force it. Putting that shot through Braeden's chest and simultaneously through his own son's had almost been more than he could bring himself to do, but if he didn't, who would? None of these other fools would have had the spine. Vegeta had said it himself when this whole thing had began; he was going to have to be a leader here. If only he'd known the impact of those words. In the end, they had proven all too true. The sheer stupid irony of it would have made him laugh with the absurdity of it all, if the result wasn't as horrible as this. Sarcastic or not, he couldn't have conjured up a smile, even if his life depended on it.

Trunks, his older son, lunged toward them and took his younger counterpart's wrist with shaking hands, looking as if he were on the verge of panicking.

"He's barely breathing; he won't last much longer like this. If we don't do something now, he's going to die," Future Trunks choked, eyes wild with guilt and fear. The boy had known what would happen as well. Vegeta supposed he shouldn't be surprised, but he wasn't thinking straight. As if to prove that fact to be even truer, Trunks swung his head rapidly toward Vegeta, piercing him with a wild, desperate glare that shocked the prince with its intensity.

"Do you realize what you've done?! Do you?! When they were connected that closely, killing Braeden was the same as killing him! Damn it, do you…"

Vegeta cut him off, enraged. "Of course I know what I did! How could I not, after looking into those eyes of his! His emotions always play so freely because of those ridiculous eyes; there was no way I couldn't see the truth after that! Do you think I like this? Do you honestly believe that I'm proud of the fact that I may have just killed my own son!? I am well aware of the fact that I'm a heartless son of a bitch, but that boy means more to me than anything! You should damn well understand it! After the way I humiliated myself in front of Cell for you, how could you doubt the truth of the words I just spoke?!"

The future warrior jerked back, as if Vegeta had physically slapped him, and he cast his eyes downward sheepishly, ashamed. "I know…I know that, I'm sorry. I'm just as much at fault as you are, but I…damn it! Not again! Not like Gohan…" he muttered, almost as if he were talking to himself more than to anyone else. What a mess they all were, but Vegeta didn't care. All he cared about was the near lifeless form lying in his arms, covered in blood from multiple wounds, a ghostly pallor creeping up to touch his once bronzed cheeks.

"Goten, take us to Kami's lookout! We have to have Dende heal him. Maybe it will help him!" Gohan screamed, realizing that none of the others were in a good enough state of mind to think. Tears streamed down Goten's cheeks, and the young Saiyan's shoulder's shook as he tried to stifle his sobs. He raised two fingers to his head to search for the location, Vegeta forcefully pulling himself out of his stupor to stand up and focus on what was going on. The boy would have no chance at all if he didn't pull himself out of depression.

As he was walking toward Goten, something made him stop; a faint blip on his radar, or so to speak. A second later, a Raven colored flash descended from the sky and landed with a thud, followed by, to his surprise, Piccolo and Dende. Well, at least that eliminated work and time for all of them. The healer was here. He had no idea who the woman was; she was obviously human, but not without a certain measure of power.

"Raven?" Future Trunks said, sounding a bit dazed, but he made his way toward her all the same. The woman called Raven wrapped her arms around Trunks, seemingly content, at least for a moment. With wonder in his eyes, the future warrior reached down with one hand and brushed it against her cheek, as if he couldn't believe she was there. Raven reached up on tiptoe and closed the distance between them, locking her lips onto his in a way that answered Vegeta's question thoroughly. His woman, he guessed.

The woman, finally detaching herself from Trunks, looked around at the others, and she paled visibly when her eyes came to rest on the demi-Saiyan in his arms. "Is…is he…?"

"No, but nearly. I can feel it," Piccolo responded, stalking quickly over to Vegeta and young Trunks. Dende followed as quickly as he could, smaller legs rushing to keep up with Piccolo's. "Hey Trunks, good to see you even under these circumstances. I understand you're going to have a family. Congratulations," the elder Namek said, throwing Future Trunks a brief, yet warm glance as he reached the younger Trunks.

"It's good to see you, Piccolo and you too Dende," Trunks replied, sounding subdued, but his words were sincere. He threw Raven a quizzical look, as if to ask, "How does he know that?"

"We met on the way," Raven told her fiancé. "After I felt his power drop, I had to come."

The future warrior's eyes darkened in renewed sadness, and Vegeta felt more than saw him turn his head to look in his direction, along with everyone else. But, who gave a damn. It was pointless to dwell on how many people happened to be ogling at him and his comatose son. What was important right now was seeing what the hell was wrong with the boy. Perhaps a healing was all it would take. _Yeah right, and I'm an angel of love and mercy, _Vegeta thought cynically.

"Hurry Dende, heal him," Piccolo ordered, and the young guardian looked more than happy to comply.

"Of course. Just hold still Vegeta; I'll heal you too in the process." And with that, the young Namekian set to work on both of them, holding out his hands, closing his eyes as they glowed with green energy that sprung from his fingertips to descend onto father and son. Vegeta tried to hold still as the familiar, tingly feeling crept over flesh and bone, mending the damage he had taken throughout the battle. After a few minutes the healing process was finished, and Vegeta was able to stand up straight with ease, as if he'd never been hurt in the first place. With slight hesitation, he looked down at Trunks and noticed that the young man's wounds were indeed healed, though still he didn't stir, and Vegeta registered with alarm that his flesh was as pale as, if not paler than before.

Piccolo, apparently noticing as well, took the teenager's arm and held two fingers to his wrist to take his pulse, a grim look on his angled, green face. "It doesn't seem to have helped at all."

"I don't understand. I did everything right, I know I did," Dende stated, heartbroken.

"Of course you did Dende, we know that. I don't think it has much to do with physical wounds," Gohan mused. "It has to have something to do with his mind."

That was highly possible, Vegeta supposed; it had been in the back of his mind ever since he'd shot Braeden through the heart. Though Trunks had not received the wound as well, he had felt every moment of it. That was all psychological, wasn't it? He had been so deeply connected with Braeden, his pain had been Trunks's pain, and in turn, Trunks's pain had probably been Braeden's. If Braeden had died while Trunks was still inside his mind…what did that mean for him? Would he be able to get back to his own? The Saiyan prince wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to that.

_I've failed you again, my son, _Vegeta thought with anguish. Cradling Trunks with one arm, he reached his other up to brush lavender locks of hair out of his deathly pale face, cursing himself and everything Braeden had been. The Dragonballs could bring him back if he died, but that erased nothing; the mental scars would still be there. Vegeta struggled to swallow over the lump in his throat as he gazed down upon his son's motionless form. There had to be something he could do…his body was alive, wasn't it? Then where was his mind? Was it even here anymore?

Piccolo reached his arm forward and placed his palm upon Trunks's head, closing his eyes as if in concentration. Oh, right. He had some type of psychic powers too. For a few tense minutes, Piccolo stayed like that, unmoving, his stillness broken only by an occasional twitch.

"That's strange," he finally said, opening his eyes and raising his head to look at them. "I'm sensing almost no brain activity at all. It feels almost as if he's in a coma, but I think it somehow goes beyond that. I definitely sense _something._ He's in there somewhere, but it feels to me like his own mind is barely hanging on. It's extremely damaged by his mental battle with Braeden. My guess is, when Braeden died, most if not all of Trunks's consciousness was dragged along with him. He's hardly there at all anymore. I doubt he'd be able to find his way back on his own. Unless we do something, he'll stay in a coma for the rest of his life."

"So what do we do? How do we help him?" Goten asked, voice quivering slightly with desperation.

Vaguely, Vegeta could hear the others conversing around him, but none of it mattered. He knew exactly what they had to do. It was time for a certain big shot who had started it all to show how powerful he really was. For the first time, Vegeta allowed himself a small smile. If this didn't work, nothing would.

"Goten, set a course for Kanassa. We're going to see Crion."

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There we have it! Sorry if it was a little slow, but I couldn't just jump from one thing to the next. This was needed; kind of as a transition, if you will. Anyway, thanks for reading! As always, reviews are appreciated.


	21. Chapter 21

_**Author's Note: **_Hey there everyone! Back for another chapter, I hope the wait wasn't too long. For those of you who noticed my lack of time for Raven, don't worry. As Obelisk of Light said, this is not the time for extended flashbacks. I still have something planned for her; something that should clear up her character for you. I have had her entire story plotted out ever since I created her character months ago, so I'll do my best to make some of that clear to you before this story ends. Anyway, I'll stop yapping. On with the story!

**Chapter 21**

The surface of Kanassa was just as he remembered it. Vegeta looked out upon the wide expanse of land before him, desolation and ruin still making its mark on the once great cities that now crumbled at his feet. It seemed like a lifetime since he'd been here, though it had only been a few days at most. All was quiet and as still as death, just as he had left it. The only difference was, there didn't seem to be many troops on the move. As he'd taken off to their spaceship to leave Kanassa, there had been troops from both Braeden's and Crion's sides clashing in skirmishes; now there was nothing, except for the occasional blip of energy signaling a group of Kanassans here and there. Whether that was good or bad, he wasn't sure, but that damn Crion sure as hell better not be dead. He needed him.

The other Z fighters stood silently, wearing varying expressions of shock and horror; all except for Future Trunks and Raven, of course. This was nothing new to them, but of course the reaction of the others would be less than stellar. They hadn't lived their lives constantly surrounded by death and destruction the way he and the two others had.

Goten took a shaky breath, his face pale, while Piccolo wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. So, mister stoic Namek wasn't as unaffected as he pretended to be. The prince smirked, but it felt empty, even to him. Was he so weak right now, he couldn't even conjure up sarcasm? As he gazed down at his teenaged son, face tensed, yet void of expression, lying so motionless and pale in his arms, he couldn't deny it. He probably was. It disgusted him how soft he'd gotten, but he couldn't help himself. That of course, only served to piss him off even more.

"This is…horrible," Gohan murmured, solemn and sad. "Was it like this last time?" he asked the Saiyan prince, though the look in his eyes told Vegeta that the young man already knew the answer. Nevertheless, he answered anyway. It was something to occupy himself with, if only for a few seconds.

"Of course it was. Planets don't come back to life overnight, you know."

Future Trunks stared straight ahead, a numb, steely look in his cerulean eyes. His eyes passed over the ruin of the planet solemnly, without surprise; he'd seen it all before and knew there'd been no way to stop it. "Even after all this time, the desolation the Saiyans wrought has stuck like glue. It takes a long time to heal a whole planet. Even ours is still destroyed just like this in some places."

A harsh wind blew through the air, tousling their hair and rumpling their torn, battle scarred clothing. Death was in the air; not that he had expected any different. The smell of decaying flesh drifted among each of them, the blowing wind making the putrid stench even more prominent. That was how war went, and that was how it would always be. Nevertheless, he sensed no battles raging on in the vicinity; nothing of importance anyway.

For a few moments longer all was silent; Vegeta watched as every one of the warriors bowed their heads in respect, paying tribute to all of those who had lost their lives in the tragedy caused by the Saiyans and afterward. The Saiyan prince looked out toward the horizon, the landscape he saw along the skyline much the same as the one right in front of him. The entire planet wasn't this bad, he knew. But, it might as well be. Many of these destroyed cities were doomed to stay ghost towns for the rest of eternity, until they withered away into nothing and blended with the sand. He'd witnessed such things himself, and no doubt he'd caused it on all of the planets he had conquered. The ones he hadn't destroyed, anyhow. It would take a long time for the Kanassans to repopulate themselves, and in turn, their planet. There was nothing they could do about that.

He'd done everything asked of him and more by getting rid of that damn nuisance, Braeden. The least that old fool could do now was return the favor and heal Trunks. If it could be done. _No. It will be done. I'll see to that. _His son deserved no less. Vegeta knew better than anyone that he was a cocky, prideful son of a bitch, but he wasn't stupid. He knew that if not for Trunks, they very well may not be here right now.

Suddenly Gohan raised his head, looking out to their right just as Vegeta sensed several new power levels. It wasn't far; perhaps a few miles away. Who were they? One of them held too much power for a common soldier, not to mention there was an eerie aura of mystery about it. He'd felt this before; he'd bet his soul on that. What was left of it anyway, he mused with a grim parody of a smile.

"What is this power…? It feels…strange," Raven mused aloud, voicing all of their mutual curiosity.

"Well whatever it is, it's not normal. It's got this whole creepy feel to it, you know? Not raw power really, but something else. All of the guys I've felt so far on this planet feel kinda like that, but nothing as powerful as this. Feels a little like Trunks ever since he got his powers," Goten said, narrowing his eyes as he lost himself in thought.

Of course! How stupid could he be?! He should have recognized that familiarity immediately! Vegeta smiled, a genuine smirk of victory, and gave a cocky chuckle. Now there was the start he'd been looking for. If the old man was as powerful as he claimed, there had to be something he could do for Trunks. "Well well, what have we here? He's alive after all."

"Crion!" Goten exclaimed, as if the answer had been on the tip of his tongue. "I thought that might be it, but I wasn't sure."

"But who are the others with him?" Piccolo questioned. "We should be careful. We could be completely wrong here. What if they're just masking most of their power levels, and they're just trying to lure us to them? Maybe it's not Crion at all."

Vegeta laughed harshly, half amused and half annoyed. "What's wrong, Namek? Getting skittish in your old age? It's Crion all right; no one else could have an aura like that. As for the others, I don't care. They aren't even close to him! If they decide to pick a fight with us, they'll greatly regret it. You can sit here clucking like an old maid if you please, but I have work to do." True to his word, Vegeta took off in a mad dash toward Crion's energy signal, honestly not giving a damn if any of them followed. Apparently though, they smartened up because almost immediately Trunks took off after him, followed by Raven and everyone else. He didn't give a fuck what he found once he got there as long as Crion was waiting. He'd take care of whatever else got in his way.

Within about a minute or so of speeding through landscapes in various states of destruction, Vegeta closed in on the energy signal and smiled, triumphant. It must have given his face a pretty creepy cast, because he felt rather than saw several of the others flinch from beside him. At another time he might have found that amusing, but right now he was too focused, and far more relieved than he cared to admit. The man _was _alive; thank whatever god that was up there for that.

There among the ruins of a skyscraper, magnificent even upon a fallen chunk of rock, sat Crion, the very picture of serenity. Ramrod straight and as placid as ever, the Kanassan's turquoise colored scales glistened in the light of the sun, his vivid violet eyes scanning them all with a look of mild interest. He did not seem surprised however, though that didn't come as a shock to Vegeta. The bastard probably knew they'd been coming.

Crion stood just as the Z fighters landed a few feet in front of him, making his way down off of the rock to approach them. Goten gaped open mouthed at the Kanassan, awed, as Gohan locked his eyes onto the man, looking a bit like a kid in a candy store. It was kinda pathetic really, but as a scholar, this planet and the Kanassan's themselves were a gold mine of information. Even though they had come on such a grim occasion, the young man couldn't help himself. When it came to knowledge, he was like a female version of Bulma, Vegeta mused with a snort. They both sucked as much information as they could out of anything. Not that Vegeta could relate to that. All he'd been interested in asking himself when he'd visited various different planets were two simple questions: "How long will this take, and how much fun can I get out of it?" Demented thoughts yes, but could you blame him? He'd had the master of demented _everything _as a role model.

The Kanassan leader stopped in front of Vegeta, though his eyes strayed from person to person; he spent at least a few seconds studying every person, every face. So piercing was his gaze, Raven backed a step away then stiffened, forcing herself to stand her ground. He seemed to be analyzing her, and the woman didn't like it. _That_ he could understand. Perhaps he could get along with this Earthling.

As Crion's eyes moved over Future Trunks's form, he didn't seem as surprised as Vegeta thought he should; there was mild curiosity in his measured gaze, yes, but not surprise. This _was_ the guy with visions he was talking about, so Vegeta wasn't overly shocked about it. Just like everything else he wasn't overly shocked about when it came to this guy…that was starting to get annoying.

"Greetings, my fine warriors. I have been awaiting your arrival," Crion murmured in his soft, slightly grating tone of voice. He inched closer to Vegeta, swung his gaze toward him, and did something the prince would not have expected in a million years. He bent at the waist and bowed; so low his forehead almost touched his knees. The leader of this broken, yet ever resilient people let go of whatever standing he had as a world leader and bowed. To everyone there but most of all, he bowed to Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans. Perhaps the others would not understand the significance of that as much as Vegeta did, but it was there all the same. After all, he'd been the crown prince when Planet Vegeta still lived. The laws and customs ranged from planet to planet, but the basics were all the same. In Saiyan culture, bowing to another was the highest sign of respect you could give, especially between leaders. No doubt the Kanassan knew this.

Crion straightened and took a step back, now addressing them all. "I thank you. All of you. Because of your actions, Braeden plagues us no more, and his civil war has all but died along with him. What remains of his troops are scattered and worn. All we must do now is capture them; or kill them, if we must." The Kanassan leader looked with sorrowful eyes upon the comatose young man lying in Vegeta's arms, and the Saiyan prince thought he saw a flash of guilt pass over his face. "I know why you come. I always have."

Vegeta's eyes narrowed as he struggled to understand, because surely he couldn't be right about the significance of those words. What did he mean by, "I always have?" The prince thought he knew the answer, and he didn't like it one bit.

"Don't tell me…you knew? Even before all of this bullshit started, you knew exactly where it would lead Trunks, didn't you? If you value your life, you will not lie to me! Tell me the truth!" Vegeta shouted, suddenly wishing his arms weren't occupied with holding his son. If they hadn't been, he would have punched him in the face. His fists clenched tightly, instinctively. Maybe he still would.

The others seemed to catch on to what he was implying; emotions ran high, varying from anger to disbelief.

Confirming his suspicions, Crion hung his head mournfully. To the man's credit, he did seem ashamed, but this shame was nothing compared to what Vegeta would do to him if he didn't fix this _now. _"I knew that if all went well, this would be the result. I wish I could have told you the truth then and there, but if I had, your actions may have been different. If that had happened, all might have been lost. I couldn't risk it."

"So you could risk Trunks's life then, is that what you could risk? What the hell kind of bull shit is that?!" Goten screamed, shaking with rage.

For once, Vegeta tended to agree. The Saiyan Prince let the rage flood over him until he was almost bursting with anger, with malicious the intent of wringing the man's neck. His son would be no one's scapegoat. Not now, not ever. He would pay for this but for now, regrettably, he had to wait. If the idiot could help Trunks, then Vegeta had to keep him alive; there was no getting around it. Nevertheless, it never hurt to give someone a nasty little push in the right direction.

"Remember what I told your sorry ass that day when I left for Earth? Let me refresh your memory. I swore that if my son died as a result of that cursed power you gave him, that I would kill you. I wouldn't want to break a promise, now would I?" Vegeta seethed, so ice cold even a flaming meteorite would be hard pressed to thaw him out.

Crion merely nodded, neither denying what had been said, nor defending himself against the words. "Of course not. I truly am sorry for things having to be this way, but there was nothing else left to do. I would have trapped that poor creature myself if I had held the power, physically and mentally, to do so. Alas, I could not. My prime is long behind me, and I grow old and weakened. Perhaps it does not seem so, but it is true. I wish I could have taken him down myself, but his physical powers were far beyond mine. Without physical prowess on my side, I may as well have been powerless against him. However, Trunks…he has power both physically and mentally. I daresay, because of that, he has surpassed me. That is the reason you were able to defeat him."

The Kanassan sighed, rubbing his eyes wearily. "I fear it must be partially my fault that Braeden turned out the way he did, so naturally I feel responsible. If I do not succeed in bringing Trunks back to you all, then please; do with me as you wish."

Vegeta was suspicious. He couldn't believe the man had actually agreed to his own death. Not that it mattered either way, but that wasn't the point. "You'd damn well better have a plan," he replied, voice nothing less than that of an authoritive tyrant.

"I do. I have been preparing for this even before I met Trunks and yourself. Letting this brave young man die was never my intention. I vowed that I would do all in my power to bring him back to you. I have no intention of breaking that promise," Crion said. Even Vegeta, though somewhat grudgingly, had to admit that the man sounded sincere. Everything he'd said thus far was sincere. _Damn it all to hell._

"What exactly do you plan to do with him?" Piccolo asked, voicing the question on everyone's lips. "I already tried to draw him back to the outside, I couldn't do a thing." Much to the Saiyan's amusement, he looked and sounded slightly irritated. _Oh look, how cute. The Namek's feelings have been hurt, _Vegeta smirked to himself, glad that he could once again adequately put sarcasm to use. It was the one thing that always kept him going when all else seemed lost.

"With all due respect my dear Namekian, your powers are not on the same level with mine. If there is one thing I am capable if doing, it is dwelling within one's mind. I cannot guarantee if I will succeed; my vision, unfortunately, does not see that far. However, I can promise one thing," the Kanassan declared, the utmost confidence almost making him swell within his light-weight armor.

Crion turned his head and met Vegeta's eyes, violet clashing against steely onyx. In that one eerily clear moment, Vegeta felt he could see anything, understand everything; anything that had ever seemed too baffling for him to grasp now felt closer, as if he could reach out and touch all of the knowledge he had ever sought. He couldn't explain it, but in a rare moment of wonder, he didn't care. Everything seemed clearer; everything somehow seemed right. "I will do anything and everything within my power to bring him back to you."

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Alrighty. This was going to be the second to last chapter, but I've decided to extend it. It would have been far too rushed to put it all into one chapter. So, this story is now an extra chapter longer. Be happy about it ^_^

Thanks for reading, and as always, reviews are appreciated.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

Darkness warred within his fractured mind, trapping him, enveloping him. Trunks struggled to find his way out of the dark abyss, disoriented and terrified. Where was he? Was he anywhere? He was drowning, suffocating in the tides of his own despair. The harder he fought, the harder he fell; an unseen force kept dragging him away, further underneath the layers of darkness that brought him closer to a terrible fate. Though he was confused and more frightened than he'd ever been, Trunks knew he was in trouble. Every fiber of his soul told him to turn the other way, to fight and break free of whatever madness had grabbed hold of him. If he continued to be dragged along, all that would await him was a cold lonely death, with nothing for company but his own hopelessness.

Try as he might, he could not break free; desperate as he was, he knew nothing but chaos. Why was he here? Where _was_ here?

A myriad of colorful images, mixed up, chaotic fragments of memories danced before his eyes, though he didn't have the slightest idea where they came from. Who did they belong to? They may as well have belonged to everyone who ever was or would be; he knew nothing anymore.

_Who am I? _the young man questioned, his voice a forlorn murmur that echoed through the dusky abyss. _What am I?_ Perhaps he was dead, and this living hell was his eternal damnation. No matter what, he couldn't have done anything bad enough to deserve this, could he?

Trunks didn't bother to hold back the sobs that threatened to choke him, as a waterfall of anguished tears streamed down his face. No one deserved this…he hated it. He just wanted to go home, away from this horrible place. A wailing cry escaped his raw throat as he realized he no longer knew where home was or even if he had one; he was lost, drifting away and fading among the smothering darkness. How was it that he could cry, when he didn't know who or where he was? How was it he could be so afraid, and yet be unsure of why? Did he even have substance in this place? He had no answers, and felt as if he never would again.

His vision, clouded by tears, was further hazed as cloudy images passed before his eyes once again; to his astonishment they pulled him in before he could resist.

A small boy of a race he could not remember, with red scales and sad black eyes, ran among all the other children of his kind, struggling to catch up and join in their play. He wanted so much to be a part of them…to be accepted and cherished by them, yet his hopes were fruitless. Another little boy with emerald scales and surprisingly cruel intent hung back where the child couldn't see him, extending his leg at the last second to trip the object of his ridicule. The outcast, red scaled boy sprawled flat on his face with a thud, jeers and taunts floating all around him as blood and tears darkened the ground.

With a flash that disoriented Trunks even further, those images were gone; replaced by more that were just as confusing to him. Another child, roughly the same age as the one from the previous visions, sat outside of a rough steel door, lavender colored hair hanging in untidy clumps around his head. His blue eyes were bright with tears as he banged his small fists against the door, trying to get the attention of the person inside. "Daddy!" he wailed, the raw loneliness in the child's voice cutting into the young man's heart. He felt as if he knew this sad little boy, yet the reason for that was drifting just out of his reach.

Abruptly and with unmistakable rage, the door was thrown open, almost sending the little boy flying into the opposite wall. It wasn't hard enough to hurt him; physical pain wasn't the problem here. The lavender haired child held out his arms to the man who had appeared in the doorway, seeming to silently plead with him. Cold black eyes stared unblinkingly at the boy, and the hard features of his face were adorned with a scowl. "Damn brat. You're annoying me." For a second the man paused, for the first time registering the hurt in the little boy's eyes. Nevertheless, the man intentionally ignored it.

"Woman! Come get your son!" he bellowed loudly down the hall. Without a backward glance, he strode purposefully back into the room, slamming the door behind him.

As these images faded, Trunks felt himself slip even farther into hopelessness than ever. He knew these children, he knew he did; in despair, the young man struggled to remember how, but no matter how he grasped at the fleeting pieces of memory inside of him, he could not place how any of this was familiar to him. He wanted to…damn it, he wanted to!

_Who am I?! _He shouted his desperate plea to the darkness once more, anguish coloring his soundless cries. His wretched words went unheard.

_Someone, hear me! _His screams rang once again; to whom, he did not know, but nor did he care. As long as someone heard…. Was there nothing he could hold on to, nothing he could depend on? He'd disappear and no one would care.

_Someone, help me! _Desolation consumed him. How could anyone help him when he didn't even know himself? How could anyone reach him, when he couldn't reach himself? He was lost, alone, and very, very doomed.

Trunks crumpled and fell to his knees, hugging them to his chest in an attempt to still the shaking inside of him. Vaguely, he wondered at the fact that he even had knees in this place, but he didn't care enough to explore the possibilities. His heart raced faster and faster inside his chest as he struggled to form some kind of understanding; at this point, anything would do. It was useless…no matter how he tried, he could not for the life of him find anything that might be a tie to who he was. Frantically, he glanced around, hoping to find something other than endless darkness. He should have known better…he found more of nothing everywhere he looked.

The young Saiyan prince hung his head, letting the tears drain from his eyes, unable to stem the flow no matter how he tried. He didn't want to just lie down and die, but what else could he do? He didn't even have an identity anymore. Empty…just like the abyss that surrounded him.

_Trunks…_something whispered from around him, startling him so violently he jumped up and swung his head from side to side, even though he knew he would find nothing. The young man gasped softly at the unexpected intrusion, not sure if he should be glad, or even more afraid than ever. He couldn't put a name to the voice, nevertheless it seemed familiar.

_Trunks, _the voice murmured again; mesmerizing, comforting. Longingly, he staggered forward, drifting towards the sound. Suddenly, he found he could move against the darkness that pulled him down, toward the direction from which he had come.

_W w-ho are you? _He questioned softly,now grateful for the presence. On second thought, he didn't really care who it was; good or bad, friend or foe. It was someone, and that was all that mattered to him. _Who am I? _ He asked more urgently, hoping with all his heart that this mysterious stranger would be able to answer him.

A soft, warm chuckle rang out in the darkness, illuminating a spot of light among the emptiness that hung tantalizingly out of Trunks' reach. _You know that better than I. You need but look inside yourself to see._

Slowly, shamefully, he shook his head. _I can't…_he whispered in a defeated voice.

_You can. I believe in you. Remember, Trunks. I will show you. Remember who you are._

Trunks gazed longingly towards the small glimpse of light, shocked to find that the darkness was receding from around him, yielding to visions and long past memories. He assumed that was what they were…he only wished he could remember as the voice said he could.

As if to mock him, Trunks was met with a sight that was irritatingly familiar. The man from before with the spine of steel, harsh facial features and cold black eyes stood in the vision in front of him; it was the same man that he'd seen in the memories that danced in front of his eyes, and yet it was someone entirely different.

These eyes were a vivid blue-green, alive with emotion and feeling; not the icy black they had been in the memory before. He stood erect with his head held high, blood and bruises marring his battered form, a symbol in the shape of an "M" adorning his forehead. Blond spikes stood up straight on his head, his previously harsh expression softened; his formerly down turned mouth formed into a soft, relaxed line. His expression was gentle, perhaps even tender, as he gazed down at the boy that he held in his arms.

"Trunks, there's something you must know," the man declared with conviction, the utmost seriousness interlaced in his tone. The young boy held in this incredible man's arms cherished the contact, waited reverently for the words that he would say. He was sure that that was how the boy felt…Trunks found himself waiting just as eagerly as the boy was, found that he somehow knew everything he felt. This was a moment he was certain he knew. It was right on the tip of his tongue, lingering just on the edge of his heart. He knew this man more than he knew anything, he was sure of that. Just one more push…one more step, and he could reach the memory of exactly why that was.

In an instant he'd been waiting for, in a moment that took his breath away, the cherished man's mouth turned up into a smile; his blue-green eyes lighting up with warmth. "You've made me proud, my son."

With a gasp, Trunks' scattered mind slammed into focus, simultaneously shattering the memories that swam around him.

_Vegeta._

The name rang sure and true, flowing out of his mouth as if he'd known it all along. No doubt he had. He'd just needed a little help reaching it. Tears, joyful this time, filmed his eyes as his voice strengthened._ Vegeta. Prince of Saiyans. _

Trunks smiled as the knowledge flooded into his head, no longer blocked and hidden away. _My father…Prince of all Saiyans! _He spoke that with pride. He was the son of this proud man, this prince. His memory's flow untamed, he rediscovered everything he had known all along. Since he was in this pitiful state of…whatever it was, that meant he'd succeeded, didn't it? He had stopped Braeden. Finally he was worthy to walk beside the man that he'd always admired; to stand beside him not only as his son, but as his equal.

With a renewed sense of respect, he addressed the voice that had helped him fight back the smothering confusion and darkness that had overwhelmed him. Who else could it be but the man who had started it all?

_Crion, thank you…you saved me. I couldn't have overcome this without you. But…where am I?_ Trunks added, almost as an afterthought. Was this death or something else?

_In the sanctuary of your own mind, though in this instance, it became your worst enemy, _replied the Kanassan's voice with a slight note of sorrow. _Do not fear. Come with me. Together, we will break free; I will take you back…Back where you belong._

Trunks, with a hesitant smile, pulled himself forward towards the light that he could previously never seem to grasp, reaching out to take the turquoise hand that extended to pull him within its protective grip.

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Vegeta sat rigidly upon an armchair a few feet from the wall, tense and as uncomfortable as he could possibly get. The chambers they'd been shown to were pleasant enough, but it made no difference to him. No amount of plush furniture and finery would ever put him at ease in this situation. Glancing around, he took in his surroundings once more. The walls were made of chrome colored steel, the floor blanketed in rich, white carpeting. Plush leather armchairs stood at random around the room, offset by a table here and there. In the world above, almost everything was shattered and broken, but down here most things remained untouched. This room and the others like it were hard evidence of that.

The most significant and memorable object in the room, a large, queen sized bed, lay at the center of everything, covered in feather pillows and satin sheets that even Vegeta couldn't help but envy. If he'd been in a better mood, he'd want to try that out sometime with a certain, blue haired annoyance but now obviously wasn't the time to dwell on such thoughts.

Upon the soft blankets and sheets that covered the bed lay his son Trunks, Crion sitting motionless beside him. The Kanassan leaned over the comatose young man, eyes closed, forehead just barely touching that of the adolescent prince. Crion didn't move a single muscle as he worked, and he hadn't for about twenty minutes. Vegeta didn't know what the hell he was doing, but whatever it was, he wished he would hurry up.

"Man, what's taking so long? What's happening?" Goten asked, frustration thick in his voice.

"Maybe it's not working…Crion did say that the longer it took, the harder it would be," Dende responded, looking worriedly toward the pair of psychic beings.

Future Trunks, who was leaning against the wall, shook his head slowly from side to side. "Don't lose hope yet, guys. He said he would have to forcefully sift through Trunks' mind, and that has to be hard work. Just give him time."

_Hmph. Easier said than done. _Nevertheless, Vegeta just scowled and stayed where he was. He was seriously contemplating punching a few holes through the steel walls to let off some steam when he heard everyone release a collectively startled gasp. Annoyed, he looked up, ready to rip new assholes for anyone who would dare to argue with him – and froze.

There upon the feather-light bed, sitting up straight and tall, was Crion; arm extended downward, hand tightened and clasped around that of another. Slowly, almost reverently, he pulled the young man with the crystal blue eyes up to sit on level with him, his face graced with a gentle, triumphant smile.

Trunks sat up slowly with Crion's help, gazing in wonder into the Kanassan's face. The psychic leader nodded reassuringly, as if to tell him everything was alright. In turn, the young Saiyan prince smiled softly, tired but happy. His face was pale, but no longer deathly so, and a healthy flush spread across his cheeks almost before Vegeta's eyes. He blinked a few times more, hesitantly, and yet with increasing wonder. It truly looked as if he were viewing the world for the first time. Perhaps he was…this boy was no longer a boy. He was forever changed. Reborn. Just like Vegeta himself had been.

Wordlessly Vegeta stood, his legs moving almost of their own accord. Within seconds he stood beside the bed where his newly awakened son sat waiting, staring up at him with tear filled eyes.

The prince didn't need to think to know what to do; his body seemed to know better than anything. He couldn't stop himself. He didn't want to. Vegeta silently sat down on the edge of the bed, unable to swallow over the lump that was lodged in his throat. His eyes locked onto the cerulean ones he loved, and vaguely he wondered what Trunks would see if he gazed into his own onyx eyes. Vegeta purposefully held nothing back, neither his love for his son, nor his pride for what the noble young man had done for him. He hoped this incredibly powerful, _wonderful _man could see that.

It was enough. Trunks leaned forward and slipped his arms around him and Vegeta did the same, tightening the embrace to nestle him against his chest.

"I'm home," Trunks whispered softly, voice muffled as he buried his face into his father's chest.

Vegeta rested his chin on the top of his head, for once not caring who was around or where. Seldom did he ever let his façade shatter with so many people among him, he knew that. Still, he somehow couldn't bring himself to care. His relief and the love for his son overcame the need to hide himself behind a mask.

Trunks was here with him, and Vegeta would sure as hell keep it that way.

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*wipes tear* Aww…

Come on, you didn't expect me to leave out the father/son moments, did you? Hehehe.

By the way, as I was editing, I noticed an accidental reference to a movie I put in here that I found hilarious once I discovered it. I want to see if anyone caught it. I'll give you a hint; it's from a Disney movie.

Thanks for reading guys. I'm sure you know by now, but reviews are always appreciated =). Stay tuned for more ^_^


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

Trunks walked along the paved hallways of the underground bunker, his family and all of his friends following him. It had only been about a day since they'd come here, but that was alright. He needed to leave this place for now, as much as he was grateful to it. If he and Vegeta hadn't decided to come to Kanassa, who knew what would have happened? Despite the trauma Trunks had suffered since this conflict had begun, he wouldn't take it back for the world. Not one bit of it. _What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. _Once he'd thought that was cliché, but he'd never laugh at the phrase again. After all, it was true.

After he'd been pulled out of his forced slumber, he had regained his strength surprisingly fast. They'd called his mother and the others and they were all worried sick. He didn't want to cause them any more grief than they'd already had to suffer through. So, it was time to leave this place, for now at least.

The demi-Saiyan already felt bad enough for having scared the crap out of everyone. He would never forget the look in his father's eyes when he'd finally woken up; the Saiyan prince's relief had been profound. Not to mention, Goten and Dende had almost burst into tears the second he set his eyes on him. They'd all smothered him so much with their words of relief and love that he was close to crying by the time they were done. It was times like these when he really felt cherished.

He and his comrades continued to weave through the intricate maze of hallways and doors, somehow eventually leading to the surface. This sort of looked like the same way he and his father had come when they'd arrived here the first time, but then again he couldn't be sure because it all looked the same. Crion led them along with confidence, knowing these hallways like the back of his hand. He walked along at a steady, confident pace, knowing exactly where he was going. Finally, after traveling for roughly an hour, they came to a set of ladder rungs welded into the wall, which they all climbed up to reach the planet's surface.

One after another, they filed out of the tunnel and onto rugged terrain, the site of the same destroyed city he and Vegeta had come through before. Crion smiled at the sight of his planet; a gesture Trunks thought a little odd. Didn't it cause him pain to look upon the shell that his once beautiful civilization had become? The Kanassan gazed sideways at everyone who now stood at his side, gratitude shining in his violet eyes. "Thank you very much; every last one of you. We have gained far more than we have lost in this war."

Dende narrowed his eyes in confusion. "But Crion, I don't understand. Look at your planet. It is even worse off now than it was before. Yes, everyone managed to stop him somehow, but to what end? What could you have possibly gained from the tragedy Braeden wrought?"

The leader of the Kanassans smiled softly at the young Namekian, as if to say he had much to learn. With a sweep of his arm, he reverently indicated the sight that stood before them. "This."

Though the destruction still struck Trunks as sad, it did not affect him nearly as much as it had when he'd first come here. It was terrible, but there was something different among the shattered land; something that touched his heart. All at once he took it in, and then he understood. Kanassans of all shapes and sizes, colors and temperaments, worked together to drag away chunks of debris and buildings that were beyond repair. Others balanced precariously on edges and rooftops, inspecting remnants of buildings and objects that may yet be reparable. Beings wearing uniforms of Crion's loyalists and those who donned that of the remnants of Braeden's rebellion, banned together to make their planet brighter. They were finally working toward making their planet a place they could live in peace and they were working together to make it happen.

From beside him, Future Trunks reached out and grasped Raven's hand, a gentle smile of understanding spreading across his face. His fiancé wore much the same expression, though hers was perhaps a bit more subdued.

"Fools though they can be, I suppose they can work together in the face of tragedy. When things like this wreak havoc on your lives and the planet itself, it can be hard to know anything anymore. Either you give up and die, or you rebuild yourself from the inside out. I nearly went the wrong way," she murmured, then shook her head slowly. "No. I did go the wrong way. I gave up. Someone here though, forcefully pulled me back and didn't give me any other choice but to live, as much as I didn't want to," she finished, a sarcastic twist to her lips.

Future Trunks laughed and dodged a half-hearted slap from Raven. "Sometimes all anyone needs is someone to reach out their hand. Or a tragedy to bind them together."

Raven blushed and turned away, apparently regretting saying so much in front of all of these people. Trunks hid a smile. She was so intent on keeping as much as possible to herself, even now.

"Well, my friends. It is time for you to depart from this place, is it not? Go warriors. Home, to your Earth," Crion said, dipping into a little bow. "Live in peace, as we now will. Your task is complete."

"Hmph. You don't have to tell me that," Vegeta scoffed, arms crossed in his signature, "don't fuck with me", manner.

Stepping forward, Trunks set his hand upon Goten's shoulder, radiating warmth. "Not quite, dad. One more stop before we go home."

Vegeta raised an eyebrow, ready to argue, when suddenly his eyes lit up with understanding. He smirked and nodded his head, as if to tell him to go on.

Trunks grinned along with all of the others, who no doubt understood his words as well; however, each warrior was met with a puzzled look from his best friend Goten. "Where's that?" he asked them innocently.

Laughing at his friend's obliviousness, Trunks clapped him on the back. "Come on man, you know where." When he was met with another puzzled look, the young prince decided he'd let him off the hook. Eventually. He pierced him with a look that said, "you've gotta be kidding me," smirking the whole way through.

"But Trunks, you've already done so much. Where could you possibly wanna go but home? You have to be exhausted," Goten replied, concern coloring his tone. Oblivious and impulsive as he was, he was always caring. That, he had inherited from his father. It was why Trunks worried about him, but he loved the guy because of it too. How could you not?

"Goten, come on. You've suffered too. We all have. Now we can all go home and relax for awhile, but there's one person I wouldn't want to miss out on that," Trunks said. For a moment, the young man didn't understand, but no longer. His eyes lit up with joy as he realized what Trunks was saying.

Trunks grinned at the sight, happier than he'd been in a long time. "Next stop, New Namek."

Gohan and Goten exchanged a look, one filled with sheer delight. If Trunks had only that moment to look upon as thanks for the victory he had brought about, it would still be worth it.

"Well? What are we waiting for? We'd better get going. Who knows what trouble Goku is getting himself into up in Otherworld," Piccolo remarked, giving an exaggerated roll of his eyes. It looked so out of place on the Namekian, Trunks and Goten glanced at each other, then burst into hysterical laughter. He scowled and turned away, his cheeks suspiciously red.

Goten placed his fingers to his forehead and the warriors gathered around him, all except Trunks, who instead went to Crion. He felt as if they were connected now more than ever. This man had changed his life forever. Crion reached out and rested his hand on his shoulder, smiling warmly. "You are welcome here anytime, as are your friends. You may be stronger in the mind overall than I am, but your control could use some work," the leader uttered, an amused twinkle in his eyes that said he was teasing him. "Perhaps this old man could still teach you a few tricks."

Trunks laughed. "I'm sure you could. You've been in this business longer than I've been alive," he retorted with a sarcastic smirk. The Kanassan just gave a short chuckle, knowing he was right and finding it funny himself, perhaps.

"Thank you. If it weren't for you, I would probably be dead, along with everyone else. As hard a road as this has been, I'm glad I had the chance to travel it. Isn't there anything I can do for you?" Trunks asked, wishing he could somehow repay him and give back to this planet. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him, one he was surprised hadn't come to him sooner. "I know! We'll have two wishes at least. I could wish away the destruction! I'm sure it would be within Porunga's power!"

The Kanassan smiled, touched; nevertheless, he shook his head. "I thank you for such a generous offer, my dear young man. But, I believe it is better this way. Nothing will bind my people together better than recreating our world, one we are partially responsible for destroying. We will manage, and together we will create something stronger than ever before. I am certain of that."

He supposed he understood that. Honestly, Trunks wasn't surprised by the answer. He had half expected Crion to say something like that. "I understand. Good luck, Crion. I'll come back soon. I'm sure there's some cool stuff I could learn from you," he replied, grinning.

"Oh, surely there is. You shall see my friend. You shall see." For a moment, the man looked young and mischievous, as he no doubt once was in his adolescent years. The burden of leadership had made him a harder, tougher man and would always play a part in shaping who he was, but underneath that, the depths of his character remained the same as they'd always been.

With one last wave to the leader of the Kanassans, Trunks walked back to his friends and latched onto Gohan's shoulder, Goten already waiting to make the jump to the new planet Namek. Crion raised a hand to the sky, biding them farewell. His brilliant turquoise scales gleamed in the light of the sun, violet eyes sparkling with hope for the future.

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Moori, elder of the Namekian people, stood motionless beside Dende and Piccolo as the other Namekians grabbed the seven Dragonballs, a smile on his face as he chatted with Dende. Trunks couldn't hear what they were saying, but it was evident that the two were very happy to see each other again, even in light of these circumstances. They talked warmly with their heads close together; Moori laughed at something his grandson said, clapping him on the back. It was a cheerful sight, and it lifted Trunks' heart even more, if that was at all possible.

A few feet away, Goten and Gohan engaged in playful sparing, unable to keep still as they eagerly awaited the moment when Porunga would be summoned. Goku hadn't been gone for long, but still his absence had weighted heavily upon their hearts. They would be glad to have their father back with them again, as would everyone here, though Vegeta would deny it even if his life depended on it.

Trunks stood with his father, counterpart, and Raven, watching the scenes unfolding around him with increasing joy. Everything and everyone around him pulsed with life. The contrast between Kanassa and this peaceful place was shocking. Nevertheless, Trunks had hope that in time, the Kanassans would enjoy peace and happiness just like this.

"Well everyone, now that we have all of the Dragonballs here, let's get started, shall we? I know a few Saiyans that are particularly tired of waiting," Moori uttered with good humor, stepping forward with Dende by his side. He started forward toward the Dragonballs, but then stopped suddenly, as if contemplating something. With a nod to himself and a joyful grin, he turned back to his grandson.

"Why don't you do the honors, Dende?"

The young guardian was more than happy to oblige. His face lit up with sheer joy that he would be performing the act that would bring a person back to life. After all he'd suffered, it must be an unimaginable pleasure to give back to the people who had saved his life.

The guardian of Earth closed the distance between himself and the Dragonballs, extending his arms straight out in front of him to hover over the magical orbs.

"Arise, Porunga!" he shouted in a thundering voice, and in a flash the Dragonballs began to glow a bright yellow. Thunder boomed and lightning flashed in the now pitch black sky as the enormous Namekian dragon awakened from his peaceful slumber, twisting up and out in a shining golden form before materializing high above them in the sky. Trunks had heard all of the tales of Porunga's might, and he had seen Shenron of course, but this dragon was entirely different. In contrast to the sleek and slim Shenron, a bulky, perhaps even fiercer looking dragon loomed before him. With four long, pointed horns extending from the top and sides of his head, and similar spikes standing up on his shoulders, he was quite a sight to behold. He had the same glowing red eyes as Earth's dragon; however his bulked up physique set them apart quite a bit.

"Why have you summoned me?" Porunga roared in his booming voice. The mere sound of his words spoke of power they couldn't even begin to imagine if they were to live for one thousand years.

Dende looked up as best he could at the Namekian dragon, eyes shimmering with uncertainty and nervousness. Who could blame him? The being was downright frightening.

The young guardian began to shout their wish to the Namekian dragon; at least he assumed so, because Trunks didn't understand a word he said. He could have entered his mind to find out, he supposed, but what would be the point? Everyone knew what it was they had come here for.

Porunga seemed to contemplate the request for a moment, but no longer. "That wish is well within my power to grant. It shall be done."

A collective sigh of relief was immediately heard from the group, and excited murmurs floated around from person to person. No one had really expected the request to be denied, but at the same time, with such mysterious creatures as the dragons, you never truly knew what to expect. Just when you think you are beginning to understand them, they turn around and do something that baffles your mind.

A minute passed, then another. The Z fighters waited impatiently for their wish to be granted. They all knew that such a thing took time, but everyone was anxious to see Goku again. The guy was goofy and downright stupid sometimes; nevertheless, his presence was a powerful, soothing thing. Everyone felt the impact of his absence, as if there were a void present among them that only one person could fill.

So intent were they on watching Porunga, they didn't notice the person who shimmered into existence behind them.

"Hey, you guys! Did you miss me?" asked a familiar, cheerful voice from behind them. Startled, they turned around as one to see the man they had all been waiting for. Goku stood with his hand raised in greeting, wearing the smile that never seemed to leave his face, trademark red jumpsuit clinging to his well built form. Slowly, he walked toward the group. For a moment everyone was too stunned to move; it seemed unreal to have him among them again. Goten broke the silence and rushed forward, throwing his arms around his father in a tight embrace. To his credit and Trunks' surprise, he managed to keep himself from sobbing, though when he pulled back tears trickled down his cheeks.

"I'm so sorry I couldn't save you dad, but I…I really gave it my all out there against Braeden. I know I was stupid and that I failed you, but I hope someday you can be proud of me," Goten told him, his voice breaking.

Goku reached up and tenderly wiped his tears away, resting his hand against his youngest son's cheek. "Son, what happened wasn't you're fault, please don't blame yourself for it anymore. I was watching you. I knew you could do it. You're so strong Goten, stronger than you realize. All it takes is some good old fashioned motivation and hard work. I'm so proud of you. Both of you," he said, turning to include Gohan. The elder brother stepped forward and hugged his father tight, never too old to show his affection for him.

"It's great to have you back, dad," Gohan declared, his tone warm.

"It's great to be back. But, you guys are so strong now, looks like you don't need me anymore," Goku said, chuckling good naturedly. "Maybe in a weird sort of way, me dying again was all for the best."

"Aw come on dad, you know that's not true. We'll always need you, but maybe now I can stand on my own too. I want to be able to say that I'm worthy to be your son," Goten replied, gaining strength with every word. He lifted his chin and swiped at any remaining tears on his cheeks. His friend really had grown throughout this ordeal, as they all had.

Previously, all of the others had stayed back in order to give the father and sons time to reunite with each other; now the Saiyan prince stalked forward and stopped in front of his rival and friend. For a moment, the last full blooded Saiyans said nothing, merely stared at each other. It didn't last long.

Goku smiled and put his hand on Vegeta's shoulder; at one time the prince would have shaken it off angrily, but now he just stood there with a small, ironic smirk on his face. No doubt Vegeta was thinking of that exact thing. Trunks didn't need his powers to tell him that. "Thank you, my friend. You kept your promise. I saw what you risked for my sons. For everyone…I don't know if I could have done as well as you did under the circumstances."

"There is a reason why I am an Elite, and you are a Third class parasite," Vegeta sneered, but it wasn't maliciously. It was, more accurately, a private joke between old friends. Goku laughed. Apparently, he knew that too.

"How could I ever hope to measure up to the Prince of all Saiyans?" Goku questioned, half jokingly. Vegeta smirked and lifted his chin.

"That's simple. You can't," he remarked, arrogance and pride coloring his words, as always. But, if you looked hard enough, you could see happiness underneath the thin layer of disdain. He'd go to his grave before he'd admit it, but Trunks was willing to bet that his father had missed the younger man.

Having Goku here with them sealed the victory, made it more real. They'd triumphed over their adversaries once again; over Braeden and themselves. This mess had left them all broken, one way or another. But instead of crumpling under the pressure, they were able to fill in the cracks and create something better than before; something stronger and more resilient than ever. Trunks had been broken, it was true, but he was glad for it. He knew that now he was a person who could handle anything and everything that came his way. No matter what life threw at him, he was ready for it.

With a smile, Trunks looked upon the scene before him, Namekians, humans, and Saiyans alike circling around and talking happily with Goku and the rest of their friends. They'd be just fine. They would always be strong, even if they were apart. No matter where they went, they'd always have this contentment and strength in their hearts.

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Tada! Took longer than I thought but, that's my fault. Number one, I'm lazy, number two, I've been busy and three…I'm lazy XD. But, here it is.

Come on, you didn't think I would just leave him dead, did you? That would be cruel, and it's too much of a loose end. This is the last official chapter (sniff) but, it's not over yet. Stay tuned for the epilogue I have planned. Thanks so much for reading, you guys. Reviews are appreciated.


	24. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Raven sat under a heavily shaded tree in the enormous back yard at Capsule Corp., a serene smile on her face as she gazed up at the sky. It was a peaceful day all around; in terms of the weather, and in her heart. Tiny hands reached up towards her long hair, grabbing a handful and yanking it towards him. The young woman grimaced and gently removed the little fingers from her hair, looking down with an expression of mock horror at her three month old son.

An infant child with a sprinkling of blue-black hair and beautiful cerulean eyes stared up at her with wonder only a small child could possess, a bright, delighted smile adorning his face. A few adorable giggles made their way out of his mouth, and her eyes widened in surprise. Now he was laughing at her…oh yeah, this was Trunks' son alright, she thought with a grin of her own.

"Oh, you think that's funny, huh?" she said, caressing his cheek with a finger. The baby merely laughed again, a wondrous, tinkling sound she never got tired of hearing. She didn't see herself as the overly mushy type, but she could never stop a ridiculous grin from creeping across her face whenever he laughed. She found her own reactions a little annoying sometimes, but she couldn't help herself.

"My little Falcon…," she crooned, still slightly startled that her voice was capable of sounding like that anymore. She did not _croon. _Until now, that is. She didn't know when that had happened, nor did she really care at the moment to be honest.

It seemed fitting to give her son a name such as this. Unusual, but not obscure; powerful, yet gentle. That was what she wanted for her son. He should be strong enough to handle anything, yet at the same time sweet, loyal, honest even to those who don't deserve it…he would have his father's pure heart, gentle and strong when he needed to be, but they would make sure he had what neither of his parents had ever had; a secure home, and a hopeful future for all of his years to come. At least, she liked to think that would be the way things turned out. She certainly didn't want him to be a suicidal, revenge driven shell, like she'd been. It was better if he took after Trunks…

Before his birth, she had been content, growing increasingly happier each day with Trunks at her side; slowly allowing the gaping wound in her heart to heal. Once she'd thought she would never be able to close that wound completely, and as much as she loved Trunks, she hadn't thought he could completely heal her either. She'd seen herself as somewhat of a lost cause, especially at first. But any doubts she might have still had went right out the window the minute she looked into those beautiful blue eyes so much like her lover's.

It amazed her to think that just ten years ago, she had been living on nothing but her own desire for vengeance. Life was nothing to her but a chore, a task that must be completed before she would allow herself to roll over and die. Androids Seventeen and Eighteen had been the center of her universe; for her nothing else existed, nothing but the androids and the memories of her dying family that always haunted her dreams. She could still hear their screams if she allowed herself to, could still feel the blood of her dear older brother coating her in a savage spray as he threw himself in front of her to save her from the blast that would have killed her. That was the last sight she remembered seeing before she passed out, her brother collapsed on the ground, reaching for her…The corpses of her parents were always prominent in the background, even in her nightmares; they'd died in vain trying to protect those beloved to them. The futility of their efforts always struck home and hit her where it hurt.

And so she had trained herself to be stronger, to be the very best she could be. She got the best martial arts training money could buy, learned the art of ki manipulation merely by the use of her mind and her own unrelenting determination. Revenge drove her, consumed her, burning like a malevolent flame inside of her that refused to go out as long as the abominations that had ruined her still lived.

One day, Seventeen and Eighteen had attacked the city where she'd lived, and she had snapped. Looking back on it now, she knew she should have known better. She'd been able to feel their overwhelming power levels even then, before Trunks had helped her to perfect such techniques, but she hadn't cared. She'd overlooked every single warning sign that told her not to go, and went after them anyway. It still made her a little sick to think about what happened afterward; both the fact that she had been so reckless and the fact that she hadn't been strong enough to finish them.

She had fought, and she had lost. Of course it wouldn't have ended any other way. Thanks to all of her training, she was no weakling among humans, but compared to the androids she might as well have been standing still. She'd hardly lasted a few minutes, she remembered with a scowl, stroking the thin white scar upon her cheek almost without realizing it. The only reason she'd survived that encounter was because they'd been too bored to make sure she was dead.

Crawling away and licking her wounds, she'd retreated to her home and trained harder than she ever had before, vowing to best them someday, somehow. She stopped for nothing other than to eat, sleep, and work when she needed to. She had no friends; she didn't even have acquaintances. They were unnecessary, and they just might lead to another hole being ripped into her shredded heart. Nothing ever lasted, least of all living beings. She couldn't, _wouldn't _lose anyone the way she had lost her family ever again.

Train, work, train, work, then train again. Day in and day out, it was the same. Her skills had to be enough someday. They simply _had _to be. There was no other way for her. She would destroy them for what they had done to her, or she would die trying.

Little had she known back then, she wouldn't get the chance.

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Her feet rested lightly on the railing of the pier, her body weaving precariously in the air. Tears streamed unchecked down her face for the first time since she could remember, mingling with the rain that fell from the night sky. She was soaking wet and shivering, her clothes sticking to her like a second skin. Her long dark hair hung limply in front of her face, but she made no effort to brush it away.

_I should be happy, _she told herself. They were gone. It was a blessing, a miracle… and it was her worst nightmare. The androids were dead, and she hadn't been the one to kill them. Those two evil creatures had been her purpose throughout the long years; she hadn't ever allowed anything or anyone else in. She lived to destroy them; to repent for surviving when so many others had died. Now she had no reason to be on this Earth at all, and that scared the hell out of her. Why should she continue to live if she had nothing left to live for? Why should she draw breath into her lungs when she didn't deserve one ounce of it?

The androids were dead, and she hadn't been the one to kill them.

She knew it was true; she'd felt it the moment their power levels faded away. She didn't know who had been strong enough to kill them, but she did know that it hadn't been her. She hadn't been strong enough, she was _never _strong enough. That was reason enough for her to die.

Her breath came in harsh gasps as she moved along the railing, closer to the ocean below. Jagged rocks protruded from the deep black water, calling to her, waiting for some lost soul to impale themselves upon them.

Without another second of hesitation, or a single, painful thought, she let herself fall from the railing towards the sea, closed her emerald eyes and waited for the peace to come, for death's black embrace.

Before she knew what was happening or where it had come from, something, or rather someone, swooped from out of nowhere and caught her in his arms, speeding quickly towards the pier to set down on the ground. Raven sat, shocked, in the arms of a man she'd never seen in her life, his lavender hair wet and sticking to his forehead, cerulean eyes gazing down at her with sadness and concern. She opened her mouth to scream at him, to order the man to let her plunge to her death. It was none of his damn business what she did! He didn't even know her!

"Let me go, you son of a bitch! Who the hell do you think you are!? It's my life; I'll do what I want with it! It's none of your damn b-business!" she screamed, her voice quivering. Raven hated that, but she couldn't help it. She was _freezing._ The broken woman told herself that that was the only reason her voice shook, but in the end she couldn't even convince herself of it.

The man's bright blue eyes grew heavier with sorrow. He didn't make any sense. Why did he give a damn what happened to a woman he'd never even met before? "I've had plenty of reasons to think about it too, but nothing is worth that. Nothing."

"What do you know? You don't even know me, and you're giving me guru advice? Don't waste your time. Everyone else has been content to let me go on my merry way, whatever way that is!" She was sobbing now, and she hated for this stranger to see her that way. It just showed the rest of the world what she saw every day of her life; how weak she really was.

"Well, I'm not everyone else, am I?" he murmured in a soft tone. She didn't want to hear the comfort in his voice, didn't want to feel the way her body sagged heavily against his as she lost the strength to hold herself upright.

"Why do you care so much?" she asked, almost whimpering now. The man just smiled gently down at her, shifting his arms to make her more comfortable.

"I've been told I care too much. If that's true, I might as well use that for the good of other people. Your eyes tell me you know so much agony." His eyes were sad, but they sparkled faintly with warmth. "I just want to show you that it doesn't have to rule you." His words were a soothing cadence, and her vision blurred even more as a fresh film of tears filled her eyes. Despite her best efforts, her heavy eyelids slid shut as the mysterious man launched himself into the sky, racing through the downpour almost as if he were chasing it.

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Absently, Raven stroked her son's dark locks of hair, slowly removing herself from her memories of that day. It was a horrible day… it was a wonderful day. Sometimes she wondered if anything would be different if she'd died at that pier. Would anyone have missed her? Would Trunks have missed her, even though at that point they hadn't even met? Of course not. It was ridiculous to even contemplate it for a second.

"Hey, there you are," Future Trunks shouted joyfully, coming from the front of the yard. It was almost as if she had conjured him up, she thought, then internally rolled her eyes. _That _was clichéd. What the hell was wrong with her lately?

"The food is pretty much done, so why don't you guys come on back with us?" her soon to be husband said, crouching down next to her and their child. With a smile that made her heart clench, he cupped his son's cheek, hand so large compared to the infant the entire side of the baby's face was enveloped. Falcon moved one of his hands from the front of Raven's shirt, reaching out for his father.

Raven handed their son to Trunks, marveling at the way his face lit up as his eyes met the identical ones of his son. It was moments like these that assured her it had all been worth it. The empty years, the dreadful, dragging days. Everything. She would do it all again just to look into Trunks' eyes; would endure everything for just one touch upon her baby's cheek. With that single act of kindness that day in the pouring rain, Trunks had saved not only her body, but her soul.

Smiling, she lifted herself off of the ground and stared into the faces of her family…something she thought she would never have again. Hand in hand, they walked back toward the others; toward the beginning of their future.

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Everyone was ridiculously cheerful today, though he supposed even he couldn't blame them. Vegeta sat with his arms folded, watching the people interacting around him. Plates heaped with food surrounded the picnic tables that sat in an irregular fashion across the yard, with people taking up every seat. The Z fighters and their companions, Saiyan, Human, and Namekian alike chatted amicably with each other; a few games of cards and checkers were going as well.

The contrast of the peace they enjoyed now and the turmoil they'd gone through months ago was so drastic it was almost funny. Time flew by, and he hardly even seemed to notice anymore. Trunks had just turned seventeen already, Bulla was growing fast, and the most unsettling of all: he was suddenly a grandfather.

Vegeta scowled in dismay. He'd had enough snot nosed brats to deal with throughout his lifetime but all the same, he couldn't deny how happy the little thing seemed to make everyone. He watched as his future son approached with the woman Raven, his child held in his arms. The Saiyan prince had to admit, judging from the baby's power level, he was going to be quite the fighter. Even though he was only one quarter Saiyan, that didn't seem to matter as much as it could. He'd noticed the same thing with Pan.

On second thought, maybe he shouldn't be surprised. They _were _descended from Kakarot and himself, after all. Of _course _they were powerful.

The prince didn't much care for large gatherings, but he had to agree it was good for everyone to get together. It made his woman happy enough to stop nagging him for awhile. Not that he cared if he never saw some of these worthless fools ever again; most of the company his family kept were a waste of space anyhow. Besides, he didn't trust Yamcha, never had, and never would. Perhaps he would still decide to act on the murderous plans he had concocted for the man over the years.

"I heard that," Trunks said, laughter in his voice. His eyes sparkled with amusement as he approached his father and sat down on the picnic table nearest to him.

"It's not my fault you can't keep your mind to yourself," Vegeta muttered, rolling his eyes.

"What? You were oozing murderous rage, I couldn't resist. Still steamed about the fact that he use to be mom's boyfriend?" he asked, a smug smile on his face.

Vegeta jerked his head away, crossed his arms even tighter over his chest and hoped he wasn't blushing.

Trunks laughed as Vegeta thought he might, giving him a knowing look. "You'd never get away with it, you know. He may be her ex boyfriend, but he is her friend. Mom would probably castrate you. "

Conjuring up one of the most evil grins he could muster, he sneered in a voice full of murderous intent, "Not if I don't get caught." His son raised an eyebrow and struggled not to laugh, apparently finding Vegeta the malicious bastard quite amusing. Hmph. Frightening and hilarious seemed to go hand in hand with the boy more often than not.

Suddenly, Trunks' face lit up with a mischievous grin, and he discreetly pointed to Yamcha, who was standing a distance behind him. His lips silently formed the word, "Watch," as he turned his attention to the human, eyes taking on a glazed look as he concentrated on him. Vegeta's lips quirked up into a smile. This should be interesting.

After another second or two Trunks grinned, sat back, and watched his work unfold, Vegeta following suit eagerly. For a second, the human Z fighter twitched a few times, looking confused, but no longer. Without warning, he sprang onto all fours and ran rapidly around the yard, passing a few bewildered party guests on the way. Everyone stopped to look, mouths hanging open, faces screwed into expressions of shock, as Yamcha dashed around the yard, barking like a wild dog and jumping from one picnic table to the other. He ran up to Piccolo and licked him in the face, leaving the Namekian wearing an expression of pure disgust. Next he moved on to Gohan, snatching the hot dog the scholar was holding straight out of his hand and gobbling it up in one bite.

By now, Trunks was literally rolling on the ground with laughter, and Vegeta wasn't far behind. He bent over and clutched his stomach, laughing so hard it almost hurt. After the initial shock had faded, everyone else joined in too. Hysterical laughter swelled up until the whole city could probably hear them.

When he had finally composed himself enough to look up again, he saw something that made amusement well up anew. Seemingly on impulse, Future Trunks, who had handed Falcon to Raven, snatched a spiked collar that was lying on the ground and dashed up to Yamcha, wrapping it around the man's neck in one swift motion.

Obviously, this only made Vegeta laugh all the more, and he was back to clutching his stomach again. Maybe it was just the humor of the moment, but he swore he had never loved that boy more than he did right now. The damn dog collar had been lying there for months, and it appeared it had been put to good use after all. If there weren't so many people around, he might even hug him for that.

Before he knew what was happening, he lunged forward and seized his future son by the arm, pulling him in for a tight embrace. Wait a second…! He hadn't meant to actually do it! His body had acted on his thoughts, almost as if his thoughts were controlling him…. That was when it clicked.

_Trunks._

Confirming his suspicions, his other son appeared directly in his field of vision, a wide grin stretched across his face. That little bastard. He shot him a glare that said, "I'll get you for this later," gently pulling away from Future Trunks after a few extra seconds of holding him in his arms. Well, now that he was doing it anyway, why stop immediately?

The man stood frozen in place, a look of absolute disbelief plastered on his face. Was it really _that _unbelievable? His blue eyes were shocked, but there was unmistakable joy there as well.

He'd never actually hugged the boy, had he? Of course he hadn't. He hadn't even hugged the present Trunks until his sacrifice against Majin Buu. He'd hardly ever shown this version of his son any warmth, Vegeta realized with a pang of guilt. Perhaps it was for the best that he'd been given that little involuntary push. His future son sure as hell deserved it.

So instead of complaining Vegeta smiled, placing a hand upon his future son's shoulder, then upon his son from the present; both smiled back at him, the younger version looking quite pleased with himself. _As he should_. That had to be the funniest damn thing he'd ever seen, not to mention he'd given him that extra push he'd needed to give Future Trunks what he deserved.

"So, are you ever going to stop him?" Future Trunks asked his counterpart, shooting an amused glance toward Yamcha, who was now barking at a squirrel.

"Sure. Eventually," he replied with an evil grin, one that shadowed Vegeta's almost perfectly. "Right now, I think everyone is having too much fun with this. Shit, I'm loving this."

"That raise you've been wanting on your allowance? It's yours," Vegeta stated with a grin, to which Trunks whooped and pumped his fist into the air.

Goten, who had come up to stand next to Trunks, shook his head as he wiped tears from his eyes. "Am I the only one who's a little freaked out at the thought of Trunks with evil mind control powers?" he asked, scratching the back of his head sheepishly in a classic Goku pose. Those who were close enough to hear nodded their agreement, chuckling.

It was times like these that convinced him he'd made the right decisions in his life…good or bad, they had led him here. Looking out across the yard at the people he'd come to care for, he knew there was nowhere else he'd rather be; now and forever…however long that may be.

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Well guys, that's it; my final installment to this story. It kind of makes me sad, but at the same time it gives me such a sweet sense of accomplishment. If you guys enjoyed reading this even half as much as I enjoyed writing it, I know I'm a very lucky author.

I thought Future Trunks deserved some love, I've always wanted to humiliate Yamcha (sorry Yamcha fans XD) and I had so much fun with this epilogue. I do hope you guys enjoyed the back story I have provided for Raven. Her character should be much more clear to everyone now, instead of just to me. I promised you some clarification on her story and I never had any intention of breaking that promise, of course. I wanted to do it all along, but it never seemed like the right time until now.

Thanks so much to every single person who took the time to read and/or review this story. Look out for me in the future. A writer's work is never done =). Until we meet again…*dramatic background music*

Love you all,

Angel Wings-008


	25. Did Somebody Say, 'Rewrite'

Hey, guys! It's been awhile, hasn't it? God, three years already. And I'm feeling nice and ancient, at the ripe old age of twenty-one. "All you young whipper-snappers watching Kai! You don't know the glory of the good old days, when you waited all day to come home and watch the next episode on Toonami!" (which is back now, and that makes me really happy).

Anyway, I'm getting off track here. Yes, I realize I'm not supposed to post an author's note as a chapter, but I don't really give a shit. Sue me. You won't get much.

As I said, it has been three long years since I completed _Violent Avenger, _and God, did I have fun with this story. It was such an amazing journey to write, but my style has greatly evolved since then and as such, it is no longer up to par with my current skills, and I feel that's a shame. The ground work is here; I just didn't utilize it quite right, and re-reading it now, I see _so _many things I should have done differently, plot, characterization, and writing wise. Even the title makes me cringe a little. Could I have been any more captain obvious?

Since this story is old, but not quite super holy _shit _old, and considering the fact that I still get the occasional review or favorite for it, I thought there might actually be a few people out there who still give a shit. So, my loyal fans (if you still exist) you will be pleased to know that I am planning a massive edit, if not total re-make of this story. I haven't decided if I want to simply replace the chapters that already exist, or delete this version all together, but your input on that would be appreciated. I suppose that will also depend on how many changes I decide to make. I've only just started on Chapters 1 and 2, and I don't plan to post any of it until I already have most of the story done, so this is going to take a while. What have I gotten myself into?

Also, although I can't divulge too much information yet, I may or may not have a sequel in the works as well. Not a _direct _sequel, mind you. I plan for it to be understandable by those who have not read the first one, but it does take place in the same head-cannon I have created here. I need super awesome psychic Trunks again ;)

That's actually what prompted this re-make. I didn't feel comfortable starting a story in the same universe as this, when the writing is not up to par with my current skill level. It just felt…wrong, you know? Like I was cheating myself and all of my fans as well.

Just thought I'd put that out there ;). I love each and every one of you! Follow me on tumblr, if you have one. I go by blighted – angel dot tumblr dot com. I'll follow back, I promise. I'd love to hear from you about input for the rewrite, opinions, or if you just wanna chat. I don't bite unless you want me to :'D Hope to hear from you all soon!


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